


Beneath the Surface // Moonsun

by StrangerThanDiction



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, F/F, angst maybe?, bang bang - Freeform, big top energy from byul, definitely interwoven jealousy side plot, gang gang, hey this story actually has plot, moonsun, wheesa side relationship, yong's a cop tho so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2019-08-24 16:43:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 39,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16643927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerThanDiction/pseuds/StrangerThanDiction
Summary: Crooked cop Kim Yongsun and charismatic gang leader Moon Byulyi have to work together to take down a new gang that threatens the safety of their city.





	1. Yongsun

The thing about being a crooked cop is that you never know quite who you'll run into on a daily stroll around town. For example, having the new cashier at your favorite donut place across from your office be the woman you currently have a deal with concerning opiate distribution and having to interact with her while your partner is hovering over your shoulder.

Her eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights as we set off that damn chime while walking in and even I freeze a bit, caught off guard. Her name is Hyejin and she was a gamble, her being young and frankly inexperienced in the game. The only reason I deigned to risk my ass for this is because she's apart of the local gang, who's anonymous leader has been accommodating thus far. If they trusted Hyejin to do this, then I had no choice.

Officer Crowley walks ahead of me to place his order and I look down at my phone, ignoring the shocked glances the girl keeps shooting my way. If she could be less obvious that would be splendid.

I catch a news report on my that pops up and grimace at the headline: Locals concerned with increasing gang violence in Newport. The gang I deal with, the Crescent Clan, are concerned with drug traffic nothing too messy - so they say. The gang we have the most trouble with comes from a neighboring town and are only known as Lin's Clan. What business they have in our city is unknown and frankly frustrating.

"Next!"

I glance up from my phone in surprise and amusement. Hyejin's customer service voice is nothing like her alleyway, money-exchanging voice usually deeper and muffled by a mask.

"Plain donut, double espresso shot."

She taps at her screen and, without making eye contact, mutters, "Since you're here, boss will be meeting with you soon."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I dig out my wallet. Speaking through my teeth I hiss, "I know you're a new lackey, but I don't deal with the boss directly."

"Five dollars and twelve cents." She says normally then drops her voice as I hand her a ten. "We've made an exception."

I watch her closely as she takes out my change. "He should know better than to trust me with an actual meeting."

Hyejin finally matches my gaze, dark eyes cold without an ounce of the previous panic once there. "Or they know enough about you to ensure you won't fuck this up for us." An empty smile stretches across her face as she places crumpled bills in my hand. "We'll find you when we're ready."

I lift an eyebrow, expressionless, and take my change without another word. I turn around and walk away before she knows she's unsettled me. What could her boss want with me that he can't just through someone else?

Derek Crowley sits in a booth in the corner of the restaurant having picked up a newspaper from the stand and reads it, legs crossed over the other. He claimed to be "an old soul," glorifying paper over digital and the like. I see him more as a 30-year-old glorified hipster who can find faults in anything if it goes against popular opinion.

"I think I'll get my coffee togo today." I say as I slide into the seat across from him.

He glances at me over the paper with a dull look in his dark blue eyes, "Why's that, Yong?"

"Business." His mouth curls at my bluntness and I curse my sharp tongue. Despite him only being three years my senior, he was still in charge of me. "Just got a text that my friend's gone ill and I need to pick up some medicine for her."

It was a lie. My life is full of them and the more I use them, the easier they slip out.

Derek smirks, setting down the newspaper. "Ah, your friend huh?"

I stare at him blankly before I understand what he's implying. Awhile ago, he'd begun making moves on me and asking me on dates so, like the quick thinker I am, I made up the story that I am a lesbian. He ate it up along with everyone else I work beside. This then escalated into other women hitting on me and so I then made up my fictional girlfriend which has appease the masses thus far.

Dating coworkers is not on my agenda and making myself completely unavailable to them all is worth the countless lies I have to keep up with.

Hyejin comes up with our brunch saving me from having to respond. "Hope you enjoy." She says, looking at me intensely before walking away.

Derek nudges my leg with his foot beneath the table, "Hey, I think that barista was giving you eyes. Your girl better watch out."

I give him a glare that says I am not even remotely amused and get up. "Right. I'll see you this evening, Derek."

"You won't."

I freeze, giving him a cautious look. "Why not?"

"Because I have the weekend off, remember?"

I sigh, breathing again. "Yeah. Yep. I remember. Monday then."

Derek clucks his tongue in a frankly patronizing manner. "Memory of a goldfish this one."

"Personification of a jackass this one." I snap back causing his smirk to freeze on his face.

I leave the coffee shop before I can say anything else bound to get me fired. Honestly what a dick. His misogynistic ass needs a good kick off its high horse, but I couldn't get on his bad side. He might starting looking into things that didn't involve him.

My house is outside of town in a rural, wooded area and it's worth way more money than my current salary as a police officer. So I remove myself from people and drive a 2015 Honda to avoid unwanted questions involving how I can afford certain things I shouldn't be able to.

I take a bite of my donut as I walk to my car, letting the crisp fall air blow through my hair. The town of Newport is a medium-sized place on the edge of an ocean with Bostonian-Rhode Island flare. The briny beaches were beautiful and a few lighthouses were situated on cliffs at the ocean's edge. The ports were used primarily for fishing but were also very convenient for the sale and distribution of most things - including less savory ones.

A few years back there was a human trafficking scheme going on around the docks which the Crescent Clan unofficially helped me out with. Despite their illegal tactics and brief stirrups, the gang was good for the city in a morally ambiguous way. They kept more unruly gangs out, rarely sold their drugs to residents in town, and, through their spending, increased the size of Newport's economy. I'm fairly sure many of the more wealthy residents here are at least somewhat involved in the drug trade.

All I have to do is look the other way and occasionally give them details as to where police patrols will or will not be when I'm on duty. Easy extra 5K of spending money every month. That being said, I'm sure at least one other officer at the station has to be in on it. The Crescent Clan pulls off operations that they shouldn't be able to with only my information and I'm suspicious of a higher-up being involved. I'm unsure if that makes me feel better or worse about it all.

I didn't become a cop with the intention of being crooked, it kind of just occurred without warning. Even throughout training I'd never been someone lawful good, more of a neutral. Laws are established for a reason, but they can also be complete bullshit. So I yearn to live life as I please, taking into account not to specifically hurt others, not directly anyway. If this whole crooked business is making the town generally better off, then really I'm doing my job well. Aren't I?

I crank up the car, setting my cup and half-eaten donut in the cupholders. It doesn't matter either way. Once you begin business with a gang it's not a question of changing your mind and leaving, you're in the hold for life. And if I ever have hopes of raising a family or getting a significant other, it's dire for me to establish the clan's trust and they will protect me better than the police can.

I lean forward to shift the gear out of park and freeze as I feel cold metal pressed against the back of neck.

"Don't move."

A muffled man's voice comes from my backseat and I curse myself for not being more attentive. I tilt my head, trying to find his reflection in the rearview mirror and the gun compresses deeper into my neck.

I can feel his presence right next to my ear as he speaks again, "The sun shines bright today."

As calmly as I can muster I respond, "Tonight the moon shines brighter."

Infinitely long seconds pass. I hold my breath until I feel the absence of the gun pressed into my neck.

"Do you know the lighthouse on Whitman's Bay?"

"Yes."

"Be there tomorrow at dusk."

I scowl. "Was all this really necessary?"

He shifts in the back and I hear the door creak open. "Nowadays we can't take chances, Kim Yongsun." The door slams shut as he rushes off.

The use of my name was an intimidation tactic - he knows me, I don't know him. I know the drill but it still unnerves me everytime it happens. If one day they find me unuseful or unworthy, they can rat me out or kill me without batting an eye.

And yet the money is worth it. What else is there to live for?

 

At home, I have a fully furnished indoor gym: including a bipedal machine, multiple ones for triceps and core with a thin layer of dust on them, and a pole for dancing. Mirrors line the front and right walls and the floor is a combination of wood and marble. This is what I spent the majority of my first few checks from "assisting" the clan on. The pole I use everyday, the other items were random splurges like the yoga balls and bench press.

The house itself is primarily one-story with the addition of a basement and an attic, but it was designed for a family of four not a loner of one. But being involved in lowdown business whilst not even fully being apart of said business didn't leave much room for close relationships. I still keep a guest room in case I ever find friends, and a queen-sized bed if I ever find someone to share it with.

Clenching my donut between my teeth, I set my keys and half-drunk coffee down on the nightstand next to the front door and kick off my shoes, still influenced by Korean culture though thousands of miles away. That's where my family resides, safe from the danger of being associated with me here.

The tv still plays in the living room from me leaving it on this morning. The electricity bill is always sky-high - not that it matters anyway. The constant sound makes me feel less lonely.

I meander my way into my office space that holds no use but to make myself feel sophisticated about the fact of having an office space. It holds only a computer and its monitor on a desk, a filing cabinet, and a bookshelf all of which need dusting like the rest of the house. I couldn't really be bothered to clean - work was exhausting and the side work even more so. Especially when it comes to tweaking reports so that Crescent clan members aren't excessively put in jail. It's not easy and I can't do it often, but I have a list of higher-up clan members that are top-priority. If I can't tweak the report, then I do my best to warn them anyway.

At least ten phone numbers are written on sticky notes above my desktop for various members of the clan, ranging from basic inquiry to emergency. I've guessed that their main operations lie somewhere in a rural area near Jackson Lane and Margrove Street granted they want me to warn them if there will be patrols around there.

The whole thing was a lot to keep up with, but I was more of a safety precaution than a central cog in their entire operation. If I were to quote them I'm "definitely not a necessity, but do make [their] jobs a hell of a lot easier." Truly, I was flattered and I'm pretty sure I've been doing my job well. So why the hell do I need to meet the boss?

Death doesn't really frighten me - I'm a police officer for god's sake - and I know that if they were going to kill me that guy in my car would've just done it and dumped my car in the ocean. What scares me is having to get even more involved in this clan and getting caught. That's what gangs do don't they? Start you off soft then drag you in until you're apart of the whole thing.

Shit. I rub the space between my brows and sit in the chair. I really don't have time to worry about any of this, I have case reports to file.


	2. Byulyi

Everything gets easier once you've done it a few times: murder, torture, extortion, bowling. The man, hands tied and weeping on his knees in front of me, is a sight I've seen more than a couple times in the past ten years and honestly yeah, it does get way easier. I think I'd care more if he were a puppy.

He's whining about something - his kids or some shit - but all I can think about is how good that quarter-pounder from Al's is going to taste when I finally finish this. I mean the bacon is crispy as fuck and that barbecue sauce -

"-two kids! They need me in their lives!"

I swallow the pseudo remains of that imaginary burger as I focus back in on him. "Look Marty, I know you have kids but you were affiliating with Lin's clan. Were you not?"

He hesitates and I can see the automatic lie on the tip of his tongue, but then he lets out a choked sigh. "I did."

"Good boy. At least you're honest in the end, huh?" I lean back in my chair, looking around the damp, cement basement we're in.

It's a small, underground attachment to one of the warehouses we own on the coast and it's pretty damn soundproof, particularly in the morning when the town's hustling and bustling can cover up gunshots pretty well. Save for me and the man in front of me, there's two other people down here.

There's Wheein, my right hand woman and keeper of records and information, who rarely gets her hands dirty directly but keeps track of group relations and remains in charge if I ever have to go away for a while. Her short, pale blonde hair shrouds her light brown face like a curtain and her sharp eyes make her look pretty dangerous for such a short woman. She holds a tablet in her hand, swiping absentmindedly and unbothered by the man's whimpers.

The other woman who holds the gun to the back of the man's head with a cool smirk is Krystal. We're an off-and-on fling because the sex is good but she's batshit crazy. She catches my eye and winks at me. It's currently an on again thing.

"Can we just kill him?" Krystal asks, voice flat and without empathy. "I'm sick of his whining."

"Waiting on the witness," Wheein calls out, then under her breath so only I can hear, "homicidal maniac."

I nudge her with my elbow but snort anyway. Can't help that it's true. I do my best to keep her in control but Krystal is closer to a wild horse restrained by a rope than an actual human being.

"He's already confessed."

I shrug. "We have rules in this family Krystal. You remember them, don't you?"

"All I remember is that the safe word is -"

"Just shut the fuck up." Even Wheein looks a bit shocked at my outburst and glances up from her tablet questioningly. Krystal frowns as her cheeks flush. "I don't care what you are to me after work. Right now I'm the boss and you're the mindless lackey who doesn't fucking talk back to me. Understand?"

"Yes."

Power can do some questionable things to a person and their morality. It can make them vain, paranoid, cruel. I know because I've experienced each of these things personally, each a phase of my lifelong career as a mob boss.

I was eighteen when I "inherited" the Crescent Clan by shooting the old boss, Hann, clean between the eyes. He was a complete idiot who became paranoid and stupid in old age instead of wizened. We were on the cusp of bankruptcy and barely hanging onto our hold in the marijuana business alone. Wheein and a few others had my back during the whole overthrow thing and, despite how I may act sometimes, I'll always be forever grateful to them. I grew cocky over the first few years, but Wheein was always there to knock me down a few pegs. I'm grateful to that now - eight years later.

Wheein was also there by my side during my paranoia phase where she was the only one I trusted. During that time I always carried two guns, slept with one underneath my pillow, moved apartments monthly - sometimes weekly. I had my members weapons confiscated before they could enter the room where I was and wouldn't sell drugs to good businesses because I knew who I could trust and wanted it to remain that way. With Wheein's help, I began to realize I was becoming like the old boss and if I kept on the way I was we'd both end up with a bullet between the eyes soon. Trust is key in a clan, and if you can't trust your members...

I look accusingly towards Marty on the ground in front of me, resisting the urge to spit on the top of his head. If you can't trust them, you kill them.

Cruelty is like beauty: it's in the eye of the beholder. Some may call me cruel while others, the smarter of the two, may call me authoritative. One cannot expect a mob boss to be all sunshine and daisies, and considering I don't promote gang violence and theft, I'm already a pretty soft boss. Don't even get me started on the shit I get when people find out I'm a woman. I've killed at least ten men for some misogynistic comment or come on. If they ever got to know me, they'd already know I'm not much into their species in the first place - not in the way they'd think.

The door to the basement's warehouse scrapes open and everyone looks towards our key witness finally showing up.

Our newest recruit, Hyejin, has been extremely pleasing thus far - on the eyes and in the field. Unfortunately, I've counted the curvy, dark-haired beauty off-limits because - even though she'd never say - I know Wheein has an interest in her. I even see it now as she looks up from her tablet for longer than five seconds as the twenty-year-old strides in purposefully.

"Sorry, I'm late," she drawls, sounding more tired than sorry, "the coffee shop held me over."

Hyejin stops to stand just to the front and left of Marty. Krystal's gaze runs over her like a lion to a gazelle and I snap my fingers in her direction, causing her stare to break.

"You're fine Hyejin. Recount again what you saw on the 6th of October for the trial." I say, crossing my arms.

She clears her throat, training her eyes ahead and away from the kneeling man. "He entered the coffee shop at ten after eleven that night with a young woman and I recognized her from the photos of the few known members of Lin's Clan. Lucky enough, I was busing tables in the back so Marty here didn't see me. I didn't hear him reveal anything too in depth, seeing he's such a low-level pawn," he looks up at her with hate in his eyes, "but he was giving her locations to spots we frequently meet up to trade goods with consumers. The price for this information wasn't even money. It's sexual favors."

"He's the reason so many of our members have been picked off recently." Wheein mutters in a fury-tinged voice barely above a whisper. "For. Sexual. Favors."

Marty has the audacity to look embarrassed. "Not just sexual favors. They were going to let me join their clan!"

"Sorry I didn't get all the details right, you traitorous bitch." Hyejin growls, kicking him the side with her booted foot.

He yelps in pain as I stare at him impassive. He shouldn't see the cold anger that boils in my veins. That means he's affected me. Krystal's finger twitches against the trigger and I know it's taking everything in her to not just squeeze it already.

"Tell me this one thing Marty," I muse, walking over to him until the tips of my boots press against his knees. "Look at me." His head remains dipped, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I curl my lips and grip his chin, yanking his head up for him. "The least you can do is obey in your final moments Marty. Right?"

He nods with his face towards me, but his eyes downcast. Something about how he can't look me in the eye after everything thing he's done infuriates me. My fingers tighten on his chin so hard there's a pop as something shifts. He doesn't make a sound and yet his eyes flash in pain. I let him go, leaving bloody crescents where my nails dug in.

"What truly possessed you to betray me?" I gesture around to the other three members in the room. "Your family? It couldn't have been just the sexual favors."

"They pay more. Their clan will survive longer."

I raise an eyebrow and scoff with a mixture indignation and amusement. "Really? You think so?"

"Yes. They're cutthroat and willing to kill and create chaos to achieve their goals. You avoid it and waste potential." Marty's voice grows bolder with each word, almost seeming to reassure himself of his correctness in betraying us.

His words get to me, dig into me with curled talons. If I have any doubts in this world, it's about how I choose to run the Crescent Clan and if I can do it better. There's some small part of me that knows this conversation will nag me for a very long time. The other, larger part pours all my fears and insecurities into anger.

I smile at Marty then, the cold and emotionless mask that I must wear during these times when emotions threaten me, and all his bravado washes off his face like water.

"Krystal, we're doing his punishment a bit differently. Put your gun away." She obliges without a word or questioning look. I'm almost grateful for it. I just might have shot her if she had. "Take him somewhere quiet and kill him. Do whatever you want to him, just don't use a gun for it."

"No!" Marty cries, trying to clamor to his feet.

Krystal kicks him in the back of the head with a twisted smile. "Shut up."

I watch him slam onto the concrete with a trickle of blood escaping his parted lips and feel a surge of perverse satisfaction at his pain.

"Bring his body back here when you finish so we can dispose of it."

Krystal nods and drags the half-conscious man out of the room by his hair, scratching the skin off of his bare arm in the process. I shift my focus to Hyejin who still stands nearby with an almost blank look on her face, save for the corner of her mouth tilting up. She looks proud. She should be.

"Waiting for a pat on the head?" Wheein asks Hyejin, still engulfed in her tablet.

The younger girl's cheeks redden as she bows apologetically. "No, no. I was just-"

"Don't sweat it," I say, "that's just Wheein's backwards way of saying you did well. Honestly, this means a lot."

"No. I - I mean thank you, but no. I just wanted to tell you that Kim Yongsun will be meeting you tomorrow evening at Whitman Bay's lighthouse as planned."

"Oh."

I'd forgotten. The meeting with the policewoman had one hundred percent left my mind, though I figured Wheein would have reminded me sooner or later. It was about time that the woman knew who she was answering to, perhaps even begin to answer to me personally. With the recent events involving Lin's Clan it was becoming dire that we establish better connections in high up places and Yongsun has proven time and time again to be someone I can count on. She should be rewarded for that, promoted even.

"She doesn't seem like a threat, but are you sure you want this meeting?" Hyejin asks, shifting nervously. "I mean she is a cop."

"We've handled worse." I say, ignoring the fact that she seems to be questioning my judgement. "And I trust Wheein's judgement. You're dismissed." Bowing her head, Hyejin leaves me alone with Wheein who I glance at wearily. "We can trust Kim Yongsun, right?"

She shrugs. "If you feel like we can't, she won't even make it out of the lighthouse."

I nod in agreement. "You've met her before, right? Is she hot?"

Wheein rolls her dark eyes, but I spot a hint of a smile flash on her lips. "Go home Byulyi."


	3. Yongsun

I debate the logistics of bringing my pistol with me.

It was definitely a bad idea.

It'd make me feel safer though.

It's definitely a bad idea.

The gun remains on my nightstand as I pace the small area of my walk-in closet in absolute indecision. What does one even wear to meet their mob boss? A dress? Sweatpants and a curry-stained sweatshirt?

Jeans and a flannel shirt. I toss them onto my bed and look away. One thing settled.

I couldn't focus at all during patrol today and nearly forgot to lock the cuffs on one guy earlier. I'm currently functioning off two hours of sleep and four shots of Five Hour Energy so, rather than feeling as if I'll pass out, I feel as if I'll just drop dead from too much fright and caffeine.

I've run through every possible scenario through my brain, from having to murder an innocent person to prove my loyalty to becoming the boss's bitch. The second option is actually one of the least horrible ones my racing thoughts have come up with. And yet, this isn't prison. I can just leave and pray they never find me.

Scoffing, I begin to change in the bathroom and stare into my full-length mirror as if trying to remember myself - my appearance - for what might be the last time. Beneath my eyes were darken with drowsiness, my own natural eyeliner. One blessing to not have to worry with makeup this evening then. My hair...

I run a hand through the long, dark locks in disgust. Maybe I should have washed my hair yesterday. Maybe I should've done a lot of things differently and it might be too late for them all.

You wanted money Kim Yongsun, I think bitterly putting my hair into a ponytail, you got it. Now isn't the time for regrets. There is never time for regrets.

With that thought in my head, I snatch the gun from my nightstand and go to my car that sits idly outside the garage. Daylight's fading and I won't be late, not even for my possible death.

It's poetic in some sick way that I'm sure exposes a character flaw that I know will eventually be my own undoing. Maybe another flaw of mine is just how little self-preservation I do have. Those countless days when I sit in bed and wonder just what I live for. Not going to lie, most days it's for coffee. Without coffee no doubt I would've fucking ended it by now.

Newport's rural forested area stretches out around me as I travel towards Whitman Bay - the coast. The trees a blend of autumn yellows, oranges, and reds and the grass blanketed with fallen leaves the same shades. Another reason to live. The beauty of nature in Spring and Autumn - the cycles of life and death. If I'm to die tonight, I would regret this too. But it's a fitting season to die no less.

The drive to the coast is thirty minutes and halfway through my thoughts run dry, my fear gone, and emotions bland. I once again debate the pistol, sitting in the compartment between the seats. I don't know why I brought it along. It doesn't give me comfort.

A chill runs through my body instead.

The forest begins to thin, clearing out to give way to a small beach more jagged rocks than grainy sand with a cliff at its end. Situated on the cliff is the lighthouse, an erect structure off-white from years of wind and ocean battering its sides. A small structure that used to house whomever manned the tower is connected to it still in good repair despite its age. I wonder if the clan uses this place often.

There are two cars parked on the bottom of the cliff that I notice as I get closer, an expensive sporty vehicle one would assume a rich man would own and a simpler car more suitable for a middle class woman. One of the the simpler car is still running, evident by its headlights shining against the rock's face.

I slow down as I approach the cars, unable to see into either due to their tinted windows that I deem illegally dark. As I park at the cliff's base a bit away from the other car's, I glance at the place where my hidden pistol lies one last time before extracting my keys. I take a deep breath, mutter some prayer to whatever god might be listening, and exit my car leaving the doors unlocked.

The occupied vehicle's headlights shut off as the car quits running and the driver's door gradually opens. I stand, uncertain, by my own car waiting for whoever to exit and take me to the boss. I don't have to wait long.

A blonde head peeks over the top of the car, just so I can barely see the crown of their head as they slam the door shut and come around the side so I can see them.

My eyes widen a bit in recognition. Jung Wheein. The one who first spoke to me about the Crescent Clan, got me to join them. The one on the top of my priority list to save at all costs. Though the tiny woman didn't appear dangerous at first glance, there's something about her eyes - an intensity and intelligence that shines in them- that gives me pause. Makes me weary.

I bow slightly as she stops in front of her car and appears to assess me. I'm unsure if I should speak first and decide it best if I don't.

"Kim Yongsun. You came." Not a question. No surprise or emotion behind those words. Just spoken as fact. I open my mouth to speak, yet she continues on, "Follow me."

She begins to walk, not looking to see if I do in fact follow her, her gait purposeful and unconcerned. She knows I'm unarmed or at least smart enough not to try to shoot her in the back. I look into the darken windows of the lighthouse's adjoining building knowing that I'm being watched closely. Perhaps there's another person in one of those seemingly empty cars ready to put a bullet through my head if I so much as move wrong. Very likely. I don't look back to check.

The trek uphill to the lighthouse almost feels like a death march as Wheein guides me to my executioner for some crime or another. The wind whispers threats in my ear and pulls strands of my hair out its ponytail - makes me shiver, though I'm unsure if that's from the my nervousness or not.

The fear has returned with a vengeance and I place my hands in my coat pockets to prevent them from shaking, especially as we get to the front door. Heavy and oaken with a brass doorknob.

Wheein finally addresses me with a hard look over her shoulder. "For your own sake: behave." She opens the door and nudges me inside first.

I stumble onto a thickly carpeted floor and blink against the change in lighting, though it isn't much brighter in here than it was outside. I find myself in a dining area, a large wooden table off to the side with two occupants on either end of it.

I quickly assess them, the one on the left a woman I recognize only through the priority list. Krystal Jung - not related to Wheein. Her eyes bore into me unnervingly, a different intensity from Wheein's, there's something predatory lying in those dark eyes. She sees me looking and smiles too widely, unwelcoming.

The other woman is Hyejin, leaning back into her chair with her booted feet kicked up casually onto the dining table.

Wheein sighs as she shuts the door behind us. A click. Locks it. "Where's the boss?"

Hyejin lifts a shoulder with a sideways smile, "Wanted to make a dramatic entrance I think."

I look around the small house a bit more, noting this room has hallways leading into three separate directions. Assuming the one on the right leads to the staircase that takes you up the lighthouse, I spy a larger space down the hallway in front of me and believe it's a living room or some type of recreational space. The hallway to my left appears to be lined with a couple of doors, I assume the lodging and bathroom areas.

"Nosy little thing, aren't you?" Krystal asks loudly, making me flinch. Her eyes snake up and down my body.

"Noting my surroundings," I respond simply, matching her stare.

"It's smart." Wheein says quietly, leaning against a countertop near me. "Useless... but smart." Hyejin nods absentmindedly and she glances at her.

I shift on my feet. "Should I sit?"

"Preferably." A new voice drawls from some hidden corner of the left hallway. I crane my head to look. Though husky, the voice is definitely feminine. Could that be the boss? I'd always assumed a man but...

The owner of the voice saunters around the corner, a crooked grin etched across her attractive face as her brown eyes travel my face - my body - in a way near similar to Krystal. I've never the dark-haired woman before - not on the priority list or around town.

She leans against the wall, cockily, and I school my features into indifference knowing she's gauging my reaction and probably finds this sort of thing amusing. I don't show my shock at her gender or her young age as I inquire:

"So you're the Crescent Clan's boss."

"Yes, sweetheart." The pet name sounds demeaning, condescending. "I'm your boss too, ya know?" An eyebrow cocks, that grin still on her face. She expects me to answer, probably some kind of loyalty test.

"You are." A fact.

Her grin widens and her nose lines wrinkle deeply. "I like you." She nods, shaking her finger at me and looking around at the room's other occupants. "She's hot, she hasn't given me bullshit, and she's not fucking sobbing and begging for her life." Her gaze finds me again, the cocky grin gone and replaced by something I can't quite place. "You. Have. Potential."

A cold spreads through my body at those words. My fear of being killed is gone. I fear this is the precursor to something far worse.

The woman gestures to the dining table, the ambiguous emotion still on her face. "Have a seat Ms. Kim. We have much to discuss."


	4. Byulyi

I don't exactly know what I expected from the crooked cop Wheein would always speak so highly of. Most people tend to... crack under pressure where this woman seems frankly unaffected by the situation. I want to reach across the table and slap her to see if she'd react. Lucky for her, I'm in a good mood, otherwise I wouldn't done it by now.

Kim Yongsun sits across from me stiff-backed, the only sign of her being uncomfortable. I take the opportunity to silently assess her again: a dark-haired, rounder-faced, attractive Korean woman. Not so unlike myself. I smirk at the thought and her eyes catch on the movement, but reveal nothing underneath her cool exterior. In some way I wish to dissect her and glimpse what lies beneath her emotionless surface.

I steeple my fingers beneath my chin and finally address her. "Such lovely weather we're having today, isn't it?"

Krystal snorts off to the side and Wheein simply sighs with a shake of her head. And Yongsun deins not to react once again and replies with a brisk, "Sure."

Her eyes challenge me and I lean back in my chair to disguise the flash of annoyance I feel spread across my face before I put my mask back on.

"I'm sure you're dying to know why I've called you here Miss Kim."

"It's crossed my mind."

My nails dig into my palm beneath the table."You're a police officer," she appears about two seconds from muttering something else sarcastic so I barrel on before she can try, "so you must know about our common issue."

She pauses for a brief moment and furrows her brow. "You mean Lin's Clan?"

"Bingo!" I clap my hands. "You're smarter than you look, you know?" I take brief pleasure in the scowl that appears from that comment.

"Okay? So what about it? We're doing what we can to apprehend them when they enter town, but we're pretty sure their base is outside of our jurisdiction. And we can't arrest them without evidence of a crim-"

"You see Yongsun, what I need is police help, and not those bothersome police laws that come with it."

Even though her expression remains neutral, I can see the blood beginning to drain from her face. "I didn't sign up for this."

Hyejin snorts pitiless, "The hell you didn't. You think you can just pick and choose what you can and can't do?"

Yongsun looks helplessly towards Wheein who probably strikes her as the kindest in the room. Little would she know, Wheein could easily be the most brutal.

Wheein doesn't even look up from her phone. "We both know there are only two options here Yongsun: you obey or they'll be a bullet through your brain. As useful as you've been, there will always be someone just like you who can take your place."

I smile at that familiar Wheein honesty she's so known for and also at Yongsun whose emotionless facade begins to fracture, beginning at the trembling corners of those pretty pink lips.

"What -" she falters and looks squarely at me, resolved once again. "What do you want from me?"

"Many things, Yongsun. Firstly, I need police reports on Lin's clan."

"So, I'm being upgraded from the protection drugmonkey to an actual criminal?"

"Turns out you were always an actual criminal, Yongsun." Krystal drawls, cleaning a pistol out to busy herself. "We're just bumping you up from a potential twenty-year sentence to... hm, life maybe?"

"But we don't plan on you getting caught." Hyejin says with a hard look towards Krystal. "That'd be bad for all of us."

Krystal hums noncommittally. "Sure."

"You'll be running with us now Yongsun." I drawl. "And you'll be compensated justly."

Yong groans, placing her head in her hands. "I can't do everything 24/7. I need sleep too. I have a life."

"Now wait. You didn't hear the second thing I need you to do."

"Which is?"

"Quit your dayjob."

That there was the kicker. And from the look on Yongsun's face she didn't quite expect this to be the outcome of our meeting today. Little would she know this was always how it was meant to come about. Wheein, being the brilliant genius she is, created a system of transforming police officers with potential into eligible gang members due to the tried-and-true game of threats and blackmail. You start them off low with drug-protection work until they're so deep they have no choice but to do anything you tell them to and they're loyal enough where they won't just accept death as their only option.

It's a beautiful, near fail proof plan that's almost enough to bring a tear to my eye and, from the looks of it, Yongsun's eyes as well as she seems to realize the gravity of the inescapable situation.

"Fuck." She breathes, barely over a whisper. Then louder. "Fuck. Fuck. Shit!"

Wheein sighs, "What did you really expect from this?"

It's the closest thing to a 'I'm sorry this happened to you,' one might ever get from Wheein. I'm surprised she even speaks as I'm focused on naming the raging waves of emotions crashing across Yong's face. Anger, regret, misery, guilt? If my capability to feel empathy hadn't long left me, I might've felt bad about the whole thing.

"After you send Wheein the files I want you to retire from your position," I continue. "We have another officer in position to resume your duties in your absence."

Yong shakes her head and leans back in her chair with exasperation on her face. "So that's it then? My life's just fucked now?"

Hyejin scoffs. "Rude. I'm sure you'll learn to love us. We're quite loveable." She glances at Wheein, "Especially Miss Genius over there."

I crack a smile as Wheein pretends not to hear even as the tips of her ears redden. Yongsun, however, does not seem to be assumed.

"I'm a member of the Crescent Clan now?" She asks quietly, looking at all us. "Just like that?"

"Yes," Krystal nods slowly, "and, as a part of your initiation, you must sleep with -"

"That's false." Wheein interjects, glaring at Krystal. "To cement your loyalty you must get the crescent moon tattoo."

"A tattoo?"

I nod. "In your case, you might want to put it in a discreet area ... knowing your history and all."

"Maybe your ass cheek." Krystal adds. "That'd be cute. A moon on your moon."

Hyejin cackles. "Yesss."

"We'll let you think on it Yongsun." I say standing up from my seat and gesturing for her to do the same. I bow slightly and put on my most charming smile, knowing full and well I have the upper hand now. "What a pleasure meeting you, beautiful."

Yongsun stands too and bows stiffly without speaking, but even that doesn't damper my mood.

"I'll see you soon. Tonight in my dreams and tomorrow in the flesh."

If her frown could get any deeper it does. "See you then."

She nudges past her chair and walks briskly towards the door with Wheein close on her heels. I watch her leave with an expanding grin. Oh how I love it when everything follows the plan perfectly.

Krystal sidles up next to me, nuzzling her face into my neck. "I don't like it when you flirt with other girls in front me, Byulyi." I feel her cold lips on my neck and nudge her away.

"Don't be so fucking needy. It's not attractive." I give her an appraising look as she has the nerve to pout. "Go home. I'll be there when I'm ready."

I catch Hyejin watching us and she looks away. "Am I free to leave too?"

"Yeah, yeah. Both of you go."

There's silence in the lighthouse as the door clicks shut behind them and I smile to myself in self-congratulations. I meander over to the wine cabinet and set out two glasses and a bottle of thirty-year-old red. There's no way I'm going over to Krystal's place on a night like this. Good days are celebrate with me, Wheein, and alcohol. It's the rightful order of things. Krystal is... very good at what she needs to be good at and therein lies the extent of her use.

Yongsun holds potential. At the core she seems to be a good person, but not bound to law like some people are. She reminds me of Hyejin but more uptight and grounded, probably due to her age. She intrigues me though, frustrates me too. I want to slap her just as much I want to have her against a wall moaning my name. The name that she can't know. Not yet.

The front door opens again and Wheein slips in quietly, taking in the glasses and wine bottle. "We're celebrating?"

I smile, lifting a glass. "Hell yes, my friend. We have much to be thankful for. Don't we?"

Wheein addresses me wearily. "I see how you look at the police officer Byulyi. It's not a good idea."

"Good ideas are for good people, Wheein."

"No, they're for smart people."

I laugh without much amusement. "First toast's to you, my wonderful friend."

She grimaces. "Second toast's to you not fucking the new recruit."

I give Wheein a wide grin. "Relax. I won't."

"Promise?"

"Nope."

Wheein just shakes her head and grabs the second glass. "Now I really need the drink."

"There's the spirit."


	5. Yongsun

Somehow, through all the hardship and bullshit and pain I’ve faced in my life, I never expected to be forced to join a gang. Becoming a police officer was already a surprising twist enough, but to transition from a cop to a gang member is just… frankly unbelievable. I don’t want to believe it.

I sit behind the desk in the small office that I’d earned after a few years of service and nurse a mug of coffee to keep me conscious. Blessedly, I’m not on patrol duty and tonight happens to be paperwork night where I don’t have to interact with Derek and can file reports in peace. I passed his office earlier to check in and he only offered me a frown in return.

The resignation letter that Wheein had drafted up for me sits on the edge of my desk with the sheriff’s name scrawled on the envelope containing it. I don’t want to give it to her. It feels like a death sentence. After I turn it in there only remains two weeks until I’m under the full-time jurisdiction of the Crescent Clan and their insufferable boss.

I scowl at the thought of her mocking smirks at my pain. Even Hyejin in all her infancy still had the nerve to mock me. There are worse things to worry about than smirks and come-ons though. No matter how infuriating my new “family” already seems to be there seems to be no escaping them.

A shadow falls over my desk and I glance up in annoyance to find the sheriff hovering over me. I immediately stand from my chair, but her dark gaze lies on the white envelope on my desk’s corner. She picks it up and her gaze finds me again.

I clear my throat, “Ma’am, I was going to give that to you later-”

“I expected your resignation on my desk first thing this evening.” She says quietly, eyes flashing and with what almost sounds like warning in her voice. “When you’re asked to do something, don’t hesitate Miss Kim.”

I barely contain my shock as I blink in confusion. “Excuse me?”

But she’s already gone, leaving me with more questions than anything else. I sit back down in my chair, reeling. The sheriff? The sheriff works for them too?

All too soon, Derek comes pounding at my door, apparently having heard the news of my resignation already. Blue eyes bright in alarm, he slips in without my welcome and closes the door behind him.

“You’re quitting?!” He whisper-yells as he strides over to the front of my desk.

I eye him wearily and glance at the clock reading half-past two. “Good morning to you too, Crowley.”

“Why? Is it that argument we had the other day?”

“It’s nothing to do with you.” Like I’d ever quit my job because of him. “Something’s come up.”

Derek appears to relax a bit, slouching into my padded chair. With his golden-brown roused out of his usual slicked-back, businessman style and the angular lines of his jaw and cheeks, he’s almost attractive. Perhaps, being around a gang boss lessens his assholery a few levels in comparison. That is, until he opens his mouth again.

“I never got to meet your girlfriend.” He mutters in an offhand fashion, but the smirk on his face reveals his true intentions.

“It’s a pity.” I say, training my eyes back onto my computer so he can see that I’m busy. “And not a work conversation.”

Derek sighs with Broadway-level dramatism. “Hang on. We should meet up before your two weeks run up. Double date with my girlfriend. How about it?”

“She’s busy that day.”

“What day?”

“All the days.”

Silence and then a soft chuckle. “Okay. Wait ‘til the whole office gets word of your imaginary girlfriend.” My cheeks flush as I turn to glare at his smug face. “Oh god, I would be so embarrassed to bear that for even a week, let alone-”

“Fine!” I hiss, unable to stop myself. “I’ll let you meet her next weekend dammit.”

Derek eyebrows lift in open surprise and his lips pull upward. “It’s a date.”

“Fuck you.” I mutter once he’s left and the door’s clicked shut behind him. “Fuck me.”

I still don’t know where I want the tattoo as I park my car near the base of Whitman’s lighthouse once again. The simpler car is still the same but the sportier car from last time is replaced with another male-type vehicle: BMW with the same illegally tinted windows. I expect the abundantly expensive cars would belong to the boss woman who seems as if she’d be the extravagant type. Hyejin’s car the simpler one, considering she’s newer and unable to afford the luxury vehicles priced into the hundred-thousands. Or maybe Wheein’s who seems as if she wouldn’t care about these things either way.

As I step onto the crisp, half-dead autumn grass no one comes out from the car or house to greet me. Somehow that feels more ominous than Wheein meeting me. And yet the midday sun, still bright in the cloudy sky, brings me a bit of false security.

I’d received a text to meet here directly after my morning shift ended but I deigned to take the risk of stopping home first for breakfast and a change of clothes. It was on the way anyway and I’m too tired from a long night to really care much about dying for a piss break.

On my trek up I hear the waves crashing onto the shore and seagulls cawing, diving towards the water for their next meal. I feel too much like the fish, swimming submerged where predators try to pick me off and I only know it’s a matter of time before I’m plucked up and devoured. Guts spilling, glistening scales broken and marred with blood, utterly helpless.

I tend to think happy thoughts like this in times of stress. Despite the gruesomeness of the whole thing, it makes me feel better to know I’m not quite in the state of that fish. I am weak, preyed upon, but not utterly defenseless. Not yet doomed.

The front door opens before I can even knock and Wheein stands in the doorway with the expressionless look I’ve begun to think is just her natural face. Her short hair is darker and curling at the edges as if she’d taken a shower not too long ago. That hypothesis reinforced by her completely bare face. She’s still dressed, however, like she could just as well be headed to a business meeting.

Her eyes trail down my body, my clothes, and up again to rest on my face. “You made a detour.” No anger or surprise in that statement, just spoken as a fact. So I nod without saying anything and, after a moment, she steps back to let me inside.

The dining area is empty, unlike the evening before, and I give the room and hallways a quick sweep. It’s all so silent. Without the noise, this little oceanside lighthouse cottage almost has a homely feel to it. Like one could raise a family and grow old in it.

Something in my chest tugs at the thought and I clench my teeth, pushing thoughts of an actual family aside. I’m old enough already and now my life’s gone to shit with the whole gang ordeal. There’s no reason to cling to the unlikely.

Wheein closes and locks the door behind us before leading me into the middle hallway where I had assumed the living room would be. Turns out my assumption proved true and we come into a fairly large area with a television connected to a game system and various armchairs, an occupied loveseat, and a full leather couch that could probably fit eight people.

The loveseat’s occupant cracks open a bloodshot eye before drawling in that low, condescending voice, “Someone’s a little late.”

I blink a little in surprise as she shifts towards us. The boss is only wearing a silk black robe tied loosely around the middle. The torso is open to her navel, nearly exposing her breasts, and her legs are kicked up leaving the skirt of the robe open far up her tone thighs.

“Like what you see?” She mutters again, amusement and suggestion lacing her voice now.

I feel my face heat - in anger, in embarrassment - despite myself and look somewhere above her face. How inappropriate. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Per custom, the boss will oversee the placement of your official Crescent tattoo.” Wheein says before the boss can make another comment. “Where would you like it?”

I hesitate, too unprepared for a permanent decision.

The silence stretches for so long Wheein just leaves the room and woman on the couch sighs impatiently and sits up, drawing together her robe. “Does your silence mean I choose for you?”

“There is such a thing as concealer that you can hide it with,” Wheein says as she returns with an inking needle and mirror, “if that at all speeds up your decision.”

I swallow, still plagued with indecision. “Chest. Right side, below the collarbone but above the breast.”

Wheein hums. “There’ll be too much fat above the breast, but I’ll do it near enough to what you want. Take off your shirt, leave your bra.”

I glance towards the boss who leans back in her loveseat quietly watching with those hungry seagull eyes. I slip off my sweatshirt waiting for the crude remark that doesn’t come. However, I still feel a watchful gaze on me as Wheein directs me to lean back in one of the armchairs. I comply, steeling myself.

Wheein waits until I’m still and situated, before leaning over me with a sharply perfumed scent of sea salt and some sort of spice following her movements. She rubs an alcohol wipe over the area near my breast neither roughly or softly. Perhaps she notices my irregular breathing, because she looks up at my face so intimately close to me.

In a murmur I doubt her boss can hear she says, “Fear fades in time and the more you understand the thing you fear, the less you’ll fear it.” She gives me a wry smile, speaking louder now, “This may sting a little.”

I’d never gotten a tattoo - had never wanted one - but the pain isn’t as intense as I expected, quickly becoming a dull ache. Wheein’s words ring in my head, distracting my thoughts anyway. Was that her way of bringing me comfort in that strange way of hers? And comfort from what? Or who?

I quickly look to the boss whose eyes are trained on the needle - or my breast, considering what I know of her tastes. Her dark eyes are dull and her thin lips turned down in disinterest. I have half a mind to think she’s sick or hungover with the way she holds herself.

As if hearing my thoughts, her gaze meets my own and she gives me one of those crooked smiles. She seems to take my unwavering stare as an invitation and comes closer to stand on the left side of the armchair so she towers me. Her eyes leave mine then and begin to roam, down my neck to chest, so heavy a gaze that it almost feels like physical fingers against my skin. I resist the urge to snap at her from the fear of shifting the needle and screwing up the tattoo; I hardly want to breathe. So I stare daggers into her and she pays me no heed.

“What a day this must be for you Yongsun.” She finally says, breaking the cold silence around us. “I think you’ll quite like your new job once the bitterness has left you. Besides, no one forced you to get involved.”

I can feel myself almost quaking in rage and Wheein puts her free hand on my shoulder - not to comfort but to still me as I hiss, “I know it’s my damn fault for helping you people.”

She gives me a serpentine smile but her eyes are tight, narrowed. “Don’t make it sound like nonprofit charity work, my friend. We both had similar goals in mind when we joined.”

“You’re a murderer.”

“So are you.”

“I don’t kill in cold blood.”

She shrugs, unfazed. “And yet blood is on your hands no matter how you may justify it.” I clench my jaw to keep from arguing any longer, not knowing what that consequence might be. She appears to take notice and snorts. “Just because I’m your boss doesn’t mean we can’t have respectful disagreements.”

I refuse to respond and though the woman’s lips twitch as if she wants to say more, Wheein leans from over my chest and declares, “I’m done.” She passes the mirror over to me.

My breath catches as I survey the freshly inked skin, red and irritated from the needle. The tattoo is a thin crescent moon perhaps the length of my pinkie with a singular, shaded star in the center of its curve. The inside of the moon itself is left the color of my skin with only slight shading to represent shadows. It’s simple, wonderfully-drawn, but oh-so damning.

Even as bile rises in my esophagus as I consider what this represents for me, I force myself to nod to Wheein who carefully watches me. “Thank you.”

She blinks as if I’d surprised her and Byul even looks at me questioningly. Wheein stands from her kneeling position and slightly bows her head. “Welcome to the Crescent Clan.”

She gathers her needle and the mirror and leaves the room, heading to one of the bedrooms I’d assume. I’m left with the boss who monitors me even as I put my sweatshirt back on.

“There’s some business I must attend to,” she says, “so we won’t need you for awhile, but the reports you sent were very helpful. For now, continue your duties as an officer per usual until we contact you again.”

“Okay.” I look to the front door in silent question.

“Welcome to the Crescent Clan, Yongsun.” She gives me a wide grin and a lingering handshake. “For now, you may call me Moon.”


	6. Byulyi

The first lackey on the list is Michael King - a weakling who deals in the ground sells of cannabis for Lin’s Clan. An easy mark to abduct, interrogate, and kill without the higher-ups making too much of a fuss and looking too hard into how he died. Start at the bottom, work your way up. It’d be a long process tearing their clan apart from the inside out, but it’s an investment we have to make.

The reports Yongsun acquired for us details his home address but some sort of restriction that required the police station to obtain more evidence before being allowed a search warrant. Lucky for us, we don’t quite abide by the same type of laws. However, there’s mention that he has a family - a wife and two daughters - that we don’t want to risk involving. I sent two of my men out on reconnaissance and for the past three days Michael has been alone in the house from noon to one-thirty. Our window.

Despite now being the boss of the Crescent Clan, I continue doing the occasional abduct-torture routine just to keep things interesting and worthwhile. As an underling, my main job was to interrogate. That official title has been passed down to Krystal who might even be better than myself, her being a psychopath and all. But, when I can, I dabble a bit.

Wheein drives a few of us one town over from Newport to a little place called Annesburg, a rural town about the same size as our own but with half the people and twice the sheep. It’s midday, about three hours from the abduction, and we stop off at a local diner for breakfast. I send Xavier, one of my own lackeys who’ve been scouting the past few days, inside for our food and wait in the car with Hyejin and Wheein.

“You think this’ll go smooth?” Hyejin asks, fiddling with her hair.

“Hush.” Wheein snaps, turning to look over her shoulder at the woman. “We don’t talk about our plans the day of.”

I nod from next to Hyejin. “Bad vibes.”

“Say, hypothetically, I’d forgotten the plan?”

Wheein gives her a small, cold smile. “Hypothetically, I would beat the living shit out of you until you remembered.”

I bark out a laugh at Hyejin’s horrified expression. “She’s just kidding. Wheein, since when did you start making jokes again?”

Hyejin shakes her head still wide-eyed, “That didn’t sound like a joke.”

“Nah, that’s just her sense of humor. You’re just joking, huh, Wheein?”

She shrugs and I give her a knowing look. If anyone else had asked a stupid question like Hyejin had, she would’ve just flat out ignored them. The fact that she threatened to beat the living shit out of Hyejin only cements my assumption of her crush. Wheein’s such a violent little shit when she’s crushing and it’s so adorable.

“Anyway,” I continue, “this is low-level crime. If you can’t do this type of stuff, you don’t last long.”

Hyejin slightly nods with a short glance at Wheein who has turned back around, “I was just asking.”

“Well don’t worry. The most important thing right now is when Xavier will get back with my damn pancakes.”

She chuckles a bit. I sigh inwardly. I need to have a talk with Wheein about her flirting skills that somehow lies somewhere in-between an elementary school kid and someone with antisocial personality disorder. It’s the reason that, despite being twenty-two and seriously cute as heck when she’s not in business mode, she’s remains single. I mean I’d date her, if the thought didn’t give me the sickening feeling of committing incest.

The van door opens and Xavier ducks into the driver’s seat carrying a bag containing the scent of blueberry pancakes and sausage, as well as a cup carrier with steaming coffees.

“Okay ladies,” I say and ignore the look he shoots me, “I have my morning coffee. Now, let’s go abduct a man.”

The good thing about Michael King: he lives far away from the main city where the only witnesses are sheep and cows. No witnesses for when his drug buddies come along. No witnesses for him being taken by two young women with bandanas tied around their mouths and noses.

Xavier parks the van a little ways away from his small home, far enough so Michael won’t notice it on his way back home and no possible suspicion will be raised. As we wait for noon to come, I mentally prepare myself for the encounter thinking of what needs to be done. Running through it again and overthinking it again.

I feel the pressure of my pistol tucked into the waistband of my jeans, pressed into the small of my back. The safety remains on for once, this objective being to take not kill. The problem lies in the fact that he’s most likely armed with the prime objective to kill the intruders in his home. I’m not concerned with taking on a full-sized man, on a good day I might could take on three in hand-to-hand, but this isn’t a fair fight and Hyejin is coming along too. I have an obligation to her life and my own.

I look up at Hyejin to see her head bent forward onto her hands with her lips moving silently. I don’t know whether to laugh or scoff at the irony of saying a prayer before doing harm to someone and their family indirectly. And praying for the safety of your own life during that just seems perverse. But what do I know of her god and his ways?

Wheein seems to be looking at her too, confusion evident in a slight wrinkling of her brow, but there’s no judgement in her gaze. Her eyes meet mine and I wink.

“Hey boss,” Xavier says from the front, “there’s the mark’s vehicle.”

Rumbling down the road is a worn-down pickup truck with its red paint chipping away to reveal the metal structure. It pulls up into the house’s driveway and a short man who looks to be around forty steps out and glances around -up the road and back down it - before slamming his truck door shut and disappearing inside the house.

Hyejin stands up, slightly hunched in the back of the van. “Alright. Let’s get it.”

Wheein turns to both us and says, “The sun shines bright today.”

“Tonight the moon shines brighter.” We say back before I slide open the door and we hop out.

As we walk over to his house we don’t speak, there’s only the sound of the wind through the trees and our footsteps crunching in the grass. It’s the kind of silence that I get from the lighthouse, away from the hustle and noise of the city. Maybe I could get a house somewhere out here as well someday; it’d be better to raise a family in a nice farmhouse rather than a lighthouse.

I clench my jaw, shaking out those thoughts. It’s not the time nor the place to think of things like this, but it tends to happen like this: right before I enter a deadly situation. My brain’s way of telling me things I’ll miss if I die I suppose. I don’t want to die. But I’m willing to.

Hyejin and I go down the path of loose gravel that’s his driveway with no trees or shrubbery to hide us from view of his darkened windows. As I slip on my gloves, I hope Hyejin prayed Michael wouldn’t be watching his windows.

I try the front door knob first (one wouldn’t believe how often that’s worked) and find it locked. Locking eyes with Hyejin I gesture to the windows before heading over to the right of the house, she heads left. Breaking and entering leaves traces we don’t want, so if a window’s already unlocked it would be a godsend.

A sharp bird’s whistle from the other side of house sends me jogging over. Hyejin nods at the slightly ajar window of what appears to be a child’s room. Placing my hands under the sill’s opening, I push up slightly and it groans with age. Hyejin flinches at my side and I listen for movement in the house, but only hear the distant sound of running water. Impatient, I bite my lip and shove the window upwards.

_Shreee!_

Now we both flinch at the sound and duck beneath the window, listening. There’s no sounds that suggest he heard, only the sound of running water. I stand, reassured by the silence, and duck inside the room, tumbling onto a thickly carpeted floor.

The first thing I hear when I’m fully inside is shower water running and the awful hums of a tone deaf man. I almost laugh at that but really can’t stop a muffled chuckle from escaping as Hyejin squeezes through the window and lands on her face. She quickly scrambles upwards with a cold glare at me and I sober quickly, pulling down my bandana.

“King’s in the shower. You take him out.” I whisper.

Her eyes widen. “Me?”

“Make sure you get a good grip around his neck, he’ll be slippery.”

“While he’s in the shower?”

“I know naked men aren’t exactly our forte, but it’s better to do it while he’s off guard.”

Hyejin nods and creeps out into the hallway, eyes focused and unwavering. I’ve seen quite a few naked men, all of which for purposes of humiliation or, in extreme cases, castration. One of my men had taken advantage of one of my other men a few years back. Somehow I feel as if castration wasn’t the worst thing to have happened to him by the time we’d finished.

Listening out for Hyejin, I look around the small house until I hear the sharp gurgle of a man’s windpipe being squeezed nearly to the point of being crushed, then the gasping of breath and then…

Silence. Smiling, I go into the bathroom just to see Hyejin releasing the unconscious man into the tub and turning off the water. Though entirely soaked she pulls down her bandana and grins at me proudly.

“That was thrilling.”

I examine the limp-dick man. “Well done. I’ll call Xavier so he can get the body and once Wheein sweeps the house for intel we’ll be good to go.”

Hyejin wrings out her hair. “Can’t wait to do this again.”

I laugh. “You think this is fun? Wait until we torture him.”


	7. Yongsun

It's been days since a part of the Crescent Clan was permanently cleaved into my skin. When I got home and away from prying eyes, I cried for much longer than I care to admit. It felt as if a part of me had been taken away and replaced with something foreign and cold.

Days pass by without me feeling much, noticing less. No longer on patrol, I spend my work hours finalizing my case reports and paperwork and my free hours lying on my bed with my consciousness and unconsciousness indistinguishable. Occasionally I remember to eat.

It doesn't feel right letting this Moon woman affect me in such a way. I could staple her mouth shut and claw out her throat so her husky voice and crooked smirk can never taunt me again.

I place my head on my desk with a groan. I sound psychotic. Probably'll turn into a psycho by the time they're done with me. If you live that long in a gang, you've had to have lost some fundamentally human part about you.

My phone buzzes metallically against one of my manilla folders. I glance up at the unknown number and sigh before accepting it.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Kim, it's been ages." It's the boss's voice comes from the other side of the line with a teasing lilt. I don't say anything. There's a soft chuckle. "Once you get off work, I want you to come to the address I text you. We have a little demonstration planned for you today."

I close my eyes, heaving a deep sigh.

"Answer me when I speak to you." The teasing lilt is gone, in its place the hard voice of a clan leader.

"Yes, boss."

"And no pit stops, Yongsun. I don't like to be kept waiting."

The line goes dead and I place my head back on my desk. Back to business then.

The address takes me to a warehouse on the seaport. One of those half-shed, half-office types. Unsurprising enough. The curious part is how they don't draw suspicion in such a busy part of the town. I know that Derek has lead a few searches of these warehouses, but not near enough of them. Might have something to do with the sheriff that seems involved in the Crescent Clan.

I find the side door that I was instructed to take on the far side of the warehouse, facing the sea. I understand how they're integrating me into their clan. Slowly introducing me to more and more physical locations, making sure I won't rat them out immediately. I have no plan for betrayal despite how much I despise my boss and her tricks. I'd just go to jail right along with the rest of them and be trapped in a box looking over my shoulder for that killing blow.

I rap on the metal door with a tiny window high up above my head and shiver from the autumn seabreeze against by back. I only had a t-shirt and jeans in my car to change into. My police uniform was not an option.

Instead of Wheein, Krystal throws open the door and stands in the center of the doorway looking at me. Her shark eyes roam over my body once - twice - and her mouth scrunches in distaste. I know I look gaunt, a bit drab - enough people at work told me this - but I don't really care, especially about her opinion. It's been a rough couple of days.

"You look disgusting and homeless."

"Okay."

"So what's the password?" She asks, crossing her arms.

"What?" I shrug. "I didn't get a password."

"Well that sucks." She retreats behind the door's frame and slams it shut, narrowly missing my face.

"The fu- Krystal!" I knock on the door again to no answer. "What the hell am I supposed to -"

The warehouse door opens again and this time I see Hyejin's grinning face which drops as soon as she looks at me.

She steps back from the door and calls over her shoulder, "You're right Krystal, she does look like that thing that seagull coughed up yesterday." She gives me an apologetic smile. "You can come in."

The warehouse isn't any different than how I imagined it, except maybe a bit warmer. The door leads into the back part of the building where there are perhaps a thousand boxes placed high onto shelves and many people, mostly men, roaming around either on foot or on forklifts. I have a feeling that the content of the boxes aren't parts for boats or anything vaguely legal.

"Where's Wheein?"

I don't know why I ask aloud, but I happen to feel much safer when the girl's around. Though she isn't kind by any means, she isn't cruel to me like the others.

"Doing much more important things than meeting you at the door." Hyejin says, casting me a cool glance. "You should get used to me, Wheein probably won't be interacting with you much anymore."

I try to ignore the dread that tugs at me when she says that, but a feeling of loneliness wraps around me like a heavy shawl as Hyejin leads me throughout the warehouse. Only a few workers - gang members - glance at me, but there's no obvious appraisal or menacing looks like the ones I receive from the boss and her inner circle.

Strange how the men appear to be the passive ones here. There must be something truly formidable about the boss. I haven't seen anything to prove it though. Her operations are well-formed, ordered, and humane enough; but I've only gleamed that the boss herself is flirty, sadistic, and a bitch who's likely sexually-involved with Krystal who seems to be the more invested party in the relationship.

Hyejin stops by a door near a corner that I'd assume leads into an office but I can't tell. There seems to be a pattern of no windows in this warehouse.

"Boss is just behind the door."

"Are you not coming with me?" I ask, becoming weary now. "Am I in trouble?"

Hyejin shrugs. "I dunno. Go in and find out."

Not willing to hesitate in front of her, I twist open the door handle and enter a fairly large, carpeted room. I first notice a large, expensive desk on the far wall, maybe twenty feet away from the entrance, with filing cabinets next to it. There's a couch on the right wall adjacent to the door with a television, a gaming console connected to it.

As I walk in further, I see an armchair to the right that was blocked from view by the door. In it is the woman of the hour, leg propped onto her knee, and smiling at me as if she expected me. I suppose she did.

She stands up and the door closes behind me. The boss's dark hair is tied in a low ponytail with shorter, wispy strands hinting at bangs. Wearing joggers and an oversized t-shirt, she'd almost seem like a grad student if not for her eyes. Not the eyes themselves but rather the look in them that lacked something. A soul maybe?

"You look like shit." She walks over to me. "Have you been eating well?"

"And you care?"

"Sure. My lackeys can't just look like anything. It's the equivalent to how a dirty bathroom makes its restaurant seem unappealing." I clench my jaw to keep myself from retorting and her lips quirk. "You know, you're pretty hot normally, but you look sexy as fuck when you're angry." She huffs a low laugh, "I guess it's a win-win for me."

"You had a 'demonstration' for me?" I inquire, redirecting the conversation.

Her eyes widen in pseudo innocence. "Did I?"

"You. Did."

"Maybe I missed your face. You'd be surprised how often I think of you."

"All good thoughts I'm sure." I mutter drily and she grins, probably amused that I even deigned to respond.

"Sure. Some bad ones too though." She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth.

I look away, all too aware of the windowless box I'm stuck in. "Your inner circle appears to only be composed of women. Why?"

"If a man proves his worth, I'd consider it." Her serpentine eyes seem to watch my every breath.

"Seems more like a harem than a professional inner circle."

Her mouth raises on one end. "You know nothing, so I'll choose not to take offensive. But you talk an awful lot, Yongsun." She steps close enough to where I have to look up slightly to stare her in the eye. A surprisingly gentle hand brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear. "So there's two options: either you learn to control your tongue or I'll punish you."

I curl my lip in disgust. "You'll punish me?"

She doesn't even try to disguise the fact that she's staring at my mouth as she mutters, "Look forward to it."

 _Fuck._ My face burns from the sheer intensity of her eyes holding undisguised lust that must take an unfathomable amount cockiness to show so openly. The downright nerve of her is disgusting. 

"I'm not your pet." I say once I know I'm able to speak again.

The corner of her mouth lifts as she backs up. "No. You're soon to be part of my inner circle."

I stiffen. "What?"

"Ah, right. I called you here to tell you that." She smacks her forehead as I look at her in silent shock. "So, you need to swear your undying loyalty to me."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

The boss shakes her head, quickly sobering. "Wheein thinks you're capable, and from what I've seen of you handling yourself thus far, I have to agree with her."

"Just like that?"

"No, of course not 'just like that'. There's a process." She retrieves a flip phone from her pocket and types something into it. "You need to witness something first."

"And that is?" I ask, dreading the answer. The boss's unusually grim face only adds onto my fear.

"Consequences of actions."

"What do you mean?"

I peer into her face, trying to gleam some bit of information but I'm met with dark, soulless eyes that lack any type of emotion. Amazing how she can flip the switch from flirtatious to absolutely inhuman so quickly.

"You gave us information on Michael King." I nod, despite it not being a question. "Now you get to observe him being tortured because of it."

I flinch, retreating a step. "Wha-"

"He's going to die because of you." She says without any infliction. "And countless others will too. So you are not going to look away and you're not going to feel sorry. Because he isn't a person, he's just an enemy. You understand Yongsun?"

My chest feels numb and vacant underneath the boss's stare and the acquisitions she throws at me. The rightful ones. I guess emptiness is better than the fear and guilt I push deep inside myself and will myself not to acknowledge.

"I understand."


	8. Byulyi

Michael King has spent the last twenty-four hours naked, isolated and blindfolded, tied to a stiff-backed chair in the warehouse’s basement broom closet. We call it the Krystal Jung special. She allows them to ‘marinate’ in their fear and the smell of their own excrement, sometimes vomit even, before ‘tenderizing the meat’. As long as I don’t have to clean up afterwards and we get the information we need, I don’t care what she does to them.

Yongsun walks down into the basement with me, her usually unreadable face blemished with what looks like dread and her arms are crossed, hands clenched into her skin. To one less emotionally astute than myself, they might think the woman looks angry. Lips stretched tight in an almost grimace, eyes squinted in the dim light.

She glares at me with unguarded annoyance. “Stop staring at me.”

“No.” I snap, trying to ignore the fact that she just demanded me to do something.

The balls on this woman is something I rarely see and usually comes from some arrogant man that really knows how to piss me the fuck off. Though infuriating, that same sort of talk coming from a woman is somewhat shockingly turning me on. And I can’t tell if it’s just coincidence because I happen to be painfully attracted to the women on my right.

Sex with Krystal is now dull. The games with the bartender at the nightclub last night was so boring I wasn’t even turned on enough to go back to her house. They’re like heroin, but I’m craving her - oxycodone or some shit. Harder to get, but if it’s what I want then I obtain it. It’s pretty simple.

We approach a heavy, metal door at the end of a hall on the basement level and Yongsun noticeably begins to slow down, shuffling forward. I remember witnessing my first torture, gave me nightmares for weeks. But I was sixteen not twenty-seven and I did it without complaint.

“Now don’t bitch out on me.” I place a hand on the small of her back and feel her spine lock at the touch.

Her face scrunches as she slips out of my reach. “You’re a sick fuck for making me watch a torture. Do you enjoy this?”

I blink slowly, stopping in my tracks. “You have some fucking nerve to question me like that.”

Yongsun pauses too and gives me a mocking smile. “What happened to ‘we can have disagreements’?”

I scratch my jaw, nearly at a loss for words. “You need to chill down this alpha attitude to a solid beta.”

“Or you’ll send a hitman to kill me in my sleep?”

“Or you’ll really get me turned on.” I mutter, only half-joking.

It works though. Her nose crinkles in disgust and she looks away from me. Good. I might actually have to kill her if she keeps up the attitude. That would be a waste.

“Behind this door you’ll find a naked man that has been prepared for the slaughter.” I say gesturing towards the door like a tour guide. “Our main interrogator Krystal Jung will be leading our demonstration today. And once you finish, you’ll receive a surprise prize!”

Yongsun’s harsh gaze is unrelenting. “Oh boy. Is it a big ‘fuck you and your future mental trauma’?”

I snort. “Cute, but that’s a given.”

Leaving her on that note, I open the door into our designated torture room, a moderately-sized room with an unusual tile floor that makes it hella easy to clean up blood. There’s a rack of “tools” against the back wall where I see Krystal inspecting a pair of pliers, probably more for show than much else. Michael King lies naked and gagged on an adjustable table in the center of the room and Wheein sits in a corner with her tablet propped against a knee. She looks up as we enter, face tightening as she sees Yongsun behind me.

I shut the door behind us and Krystal turns around with a hyena’s grin, hair pulled up in her ‘torturing ponytail’. Michael struggles, bound on his table, trying to turn his head to look at us. I ignore a choking sound that comes from Yongsun.

“Now that our audience is here,” Krystal announces enjoying this way too much, “we will begin our game.” She snatches the gag from his mouth.

Yongsun stands so still next me, I begin to wonder if she’s actually breathing.

“We know you work for Lin’s Clan. Who do you directly answer to?” Wheein says as if she’s asking an employee where their shoe section is. Michael clenches his jaw and doesn’t say anything, as expected. “Give us a name.”

She’s only met with silence, so she gives Krystal a short nod.

Krystal smirks, grabbing a cloth from the rack and placing it over the still man’s face. “For our first act: waterboarding.”

Yongsun leans against the wall face paling, but she doesn’t look away as Krystal grabs a bucket and begins pouring water over Michael’s face. No longer still, the man struggles against his bonds muted as she pours and pours. Then stops, whipping the cloth off. He gags and coughs.

“Please, I have daughters-”

“Shut the fuck up!” She hisses, face twisted in pseudo anger. I know she enjoys this too much to actually be angry. “Now answer her questions and you might get to see your family again.”

Yongsun glances at me in question and I slightly shake my head. There’s no way in hell he’s leaving this room alive. I lean against the wall next to her, knowing this can take awhile depending on his resistance.

“Again,” Wheein says, “Who do you answer directly to?”

Michael coughs and moans a bit, but otherwise he doesn’t say a word. Wheein nods once more and Krystal grabs a hammer from the rack, making a show of weighing it in her hands.

“You like walking, Michael?”

“Please-”

“So I think,” she paces around his table, into and out of his line of sight, “I think I’ll start with your feet. Smash them so well, there won’t be toes anymore - just little knobs of crushed bone. Then,” she taps the hammer against his knee, “I will crush your knee caps to smithereens. And then…” Krystal hovers the hammer straight over his exposed groin with a predatory focus, “we say hello to your little friend.”

“Adrian Jiang!” He whimpers, trying to curl in on himself, but immobile against the bonds. “I answer to him. We meet at Coldstone Brewery every Tuesday night. Please don’t hurt me.”

Wheein types furiously into her tablet as she stands up from her chair. She gives me a meaning nod.

“Seriously, bitch?” Krystal scowls in obvious disappointment. “Anything else you want to add? Your favorite color? Your boss’s name?”

“I - I don’t know I’ve never seen him. But Adrian! He has a ponytail and a mustache -” He screams in agony as Krystal brings the hammer down on his knee, the crack so loud even I want to cringe. Yongsun recoils next to me.

“Shut up.” She snaps, but her eyes shine in amusement. “Our friend here has to check the information out so we’re going to leave you here awhile. To be sure.”

Michael’s eyes water and whether it’s in pain or anguish I have no idea. “But you said -”

One hard look and wave of the hammer from Krystal shuts him up immediately. “Yeah you’ll be here until Tuesday at least. But if you get thirsty,” she gives him a sly smile as his eyes dart in the direction of the bucket, “just call me.”

I can’t help but chuckle and Yongsun looks repulsed. “What? It’s kind of funny.”

“No. It’s sick.”

I lead her back into the hallway. “Okay well, you should be happy you got off with witnessing a brief waterboarding and a shattered kneecap. That’s child’s play.”

“Cause you’ve been waterboarded before-”

“Yeah I have been.” I feel heat rising to my face as I turn on her. “Don’t assume shit about me and don’t speak to me like we’re on the same level.”

Yongsun doesn’t even flinch, but stands there with her arms cross and lip curled like a teenager who just got told off by her parent she doesn’t give two shits about. I dig my fingers in my hand, waiting for her to mouth off again.

“What’s my prize then?” She cocks her head at me. “The one I get for witnessing a torture.”

Funny. She has the nerve to ask me for a prize right after she’s pissed me off. “How about you come to the lighthouse and ask tomorrow?”

“Can’t. I have plans tomorrow.”

I raise an eyebrow. This bitch says she can’t. “When I ask a question like that I’m being nice. You know you don’t have an option right?” Yongsun shrugs. “What exactly are you doing?”

“None of your business.”

“I will actually send someone to tail you if I have to.”

Her face scrunches in what I think is frustration, but just turns out really cute. “I have a date.”

I school my face to disinterest even as I feel a hint of annoyance. Wheein didn’t say she was dating someone and I know she would have - a significant other is a liability. Either Yongsun’s lying or this is someone new.

“Who is he?” I ask as casually as I can. It still comes out harsh.

She smirks as if she can sense this is affecting me. “Wouldn’t you like to-”

“She doesn’t have a date.” Wheein says, finally coming out of the torture room and looking directly to a wide-eyed Yongsun. “Your cop friend has been posting on his feed all about this double date with you and your ‘mysterious girlfriend’ who I’m assuming doesn’t exist.”

A feel a grin spreading across my face with each word that Wheein says. I’m not sure if ‘girlfriend’ or ‘doesn’t exist’ makes me happier. Maybe it’s the blush spreading across Yongsun’s face as she stares at Wheein in utter betrayal. I can almost see Wheein’s lips twitch in amusement.

I snort. “What exactly did you plan on doing?”

“I don’t know yet.” Yongsun says, unfolding her arms and folding them again. “I was gonna wing it.”

I can hardly hold in my amusement. “Oh c’mon, you’re apart of us now Yongsun. You could’ve just asked us. Wheein’ll be your date.”

“The hell I will.”

“Honestly, Wheein should get out more.” I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “And she’s cute and would be _happy_ to help you.”

Wheein looks up at me for a long moment before nodding solemnly. “Sure.”

Yongsun’s gaze flickers between the two of us as if she’s so desperate she’s actually considering this. “You’d really do this Wheein?”

“Text us the time and place.” I say. “You’re free to go now.”

I watch her go up the stairs and disappear at the top before giving Wheein’s shoulders a squeeze. “I think she bought it.”

Wheein steps away from my grip. “Aren’t you with Krystal right now?”

“This - this is not a date, Wheein. I am simply helping her out.”

“You’re going to go on a date with her under the pretense of her thinking I’m the one coming because you know she would have downright rejected you.”

I sigh through my nose. “Are you guilt-tripping me?”

“I’m telling you the facts. We both know you have no conscience.”

Krystal steps out of the torture room last, the residue of the whole thing still apparent in a blissful smile on her face. She glances between us before coming over behind me and pressing a kiss to my neck.

Wheein just rolls her eyes and leaves as Krystal’s arms snake around my waist and pull me against her. “You want to go to my place?”

I slowly nod. “Let’s go.”


	9. Yongsun

It's been so long since I've been on a date and frankly it's depressing just going through a wardrobe that consists mainly of jeans, sweatpants, and oversized hoodies. What I once described as 'lowkey' is currently looking more like 'lonely'. But there was no reason to buy nice clothes just for them to hang in my closet and start smelling like mothballs and depression.

I guess I could just go out and buy something, but I don't want to. And now it's T-minus two hours until I'm supposed to meet Derek and his girlfriend Taliah at this fancy ass restaurant. But I'm not a complete loser. There has to be something in here.

A black dress in the deep recesses of my closet catches my eye. The dress from that one company dinner I went to at my previous job. I take it off the hanger decidedly, knowing this is the best piece of clothing I'll find in my closet.

I try it on and inspect myself in the mirror. The silk, form-fitting piece with the dipping v-line that highlights my chest in the front and the back - or lack thereof - that exposes near everything to my waist. It gives me the impression of actually having hips. A god-tier dress really.

Shit. What was I thinking when I bought this? Was I trying to get a raise?

I pick up my phone to call Wheein - or whatever number they'd used to contact me last time - just to make sure we're on the same wavelength. If Derek notices we aren't matching he'll suspect something. This has to be perfect.

"What." A harsh, deeper voice answers the phone and I pause.

"Boss?"

"No it's the fucking Tooth Fairy." An impatient sigh on the other end. "What do you want?"

I scowl. "Can I speak to Wheein?"

"She's busy getting ready. I'll relay the message."

"Could you tell her I'm wearing a really nice, formal dress? It's black and I'd like us to match." There's a long silence on the other end of the phone. "Do you hear me?"

"Oh sure sweetheart, just writing it down. You should describe it in more detail. Like, how does your ass look in it? Great I'm sure, but I'd just like a graphic description." I can hear her smirk through the phone. "For Wheein."

I clench my jaw. "Can you just tell her? Please."

"I can not wait to see you in that dress." She says before the phone clicks off.

I frown, perplexed, as I grab my keys off my end table. What is that supposed to mean?

 

 

I spot Derek by himself, dressed sharply in a suit and tie, sitting in a metal chair outside Angelo's Steakhouse. As I walk closer he looks up and stares at me way so long I begin to become uncomfortable under his roaming gaze.

After a moment he stands up, almost tripping over his own feet. "Yongsun. Wow." He clears his throat and crosses his arms. "I mean, hey. Where's your girlfriend?"

"On her way. " I retort. "Yours?"

"In the restroom." His gaze keeps sliding off my face, drifting downwards. "Our reservation is for seven so she'd better -"

"I said she'd be here, didn't I?"

"-exist." Derek continues as if I didn't even speak. "Your girlfriend better fucking exist."

"And you'd better keep your eyes on my face. How about that Derek?"

His gaze shoots up to my face, cheeks tinted red. "What? Is your girlfriend gonna beat me up?"

I shrug. "She might just kill you."

Derek snorts, crossing his arms. "Please. She'll have to show up for th-"

He pauses, eyes widening, as he stares something behind me. I turn to see a sleek, dark red Lincoln - windows tinted to a barely legal extent - pull up alongside the restaurant and a large grin pulls at my cheeks. Thank god, she's finally here.

The car idles for a moment before the passenger door slowly opens and a loafered foot places itself on the pavement.

Wait a second. Loafers?

I blanch as I see wavy brown hair peek over the door instead of the blonde I was expecting. My boss slams the door behind her and walks purposely towards us.

She wears a dark waistcoat and suit jacket - somehow forgetting a shirt in the process - and sleek trousers cropped at the ankle. Though almost mannish it suits her. And there was something different in her eyes, though still playful yet analytic as normal, there's a light in them much unlike the soulless eyes I'm used to seeing. She looks normal - too attractive and wealthy for her own good - but normal. As she gets even closer I notice a black band around her slender neck, a collar. I flush.

Only after I see the suggestive smirk on her face as we make eye contact do I realize I've been staring.

Her eyes lazily wander over my body, lingering at my exposed chest and where I know the fabric stretches over my hips. I know some part of the hunger in her gaze isn't faked, if any of it is. With the same intensity she looks at Derek and her lips, painted near the same shade as her car, pull up into a teasing grin as evident disbelief shows on his face.

She steps into place next me and I feel her warm hand slide across my bare shoulders and rest there. I try not to flinch as she turns to me, face so close to my own that I'm half-convinced she'll try to kiss me.

"I missed you baby."

My face burns. I don't think I could respond even I wanted to, but Derek finally speaks not even bothering to hide his bewilderment.

"You must be Yong's girlfriend?"

"That's right. I live out of town so I rarely get to see my Yong." I blink at the nickname that flows so easily from her mouth. Her hand moves and feathersoft fingers absently trail the vertebrae of my back in a way that makes my mouth go dry. "But when she said this dick needed proof of my existence, I had to make an exception." Her eyes widen at the scowl on his face. "Your name's Dick right?"

"Derek."

"Ah," she smiles apologetically, "it's close. Hence the confusion." I cover up a laugh with a cough. Her gaze flickers towards me almost looking pleased.

Derek clears his throat in the way he does when he's peeved about something. "After all these years, I've never gotten your name."

Her expression turns a bit roguish and, though he asked her, she looks directly at me when she answers, "My name's Byulyi," she turns back to Derek, "I'm sure it's your pleasure to meet me."

Byulyi? An oddly fitting name to be some random fake she decided to use, but what are the odds she'd actually introduce herself to a cop with her real name. The way she looked at me was meaningful though, like we were sharing a secret.

"Never heard it before." Derek says, ignoring the jab. His eyes catch on something adjacent to us and he breaks into a grin. "Taliah, thank god!"

I glance at 'Byulyi' and attempt to keep my features as pleasant as possible, "What are you doing here?"

"Wheein couldn't make it." She mutters unapologetically. "Figured you'd at least want someone to come."

I'm almost one hundred percent sure she's lying but I don't respond because it's true. Better her than the shame of no one at all but, "Your hand's a little much isn't it?"

She hums while slowly dragging a nail down my spine in a way that makes my entire body shudder. I step away, out of her reach, as if I'm walking towards the other couple. I hear her low chuckle from behind me.

My breathing feels a little funny and I struggle to appear unfazed but, holy shit. It's been a long time since I've been touched like that. Of course my body reacts like this. But she's my boss and an asshole and a murderer-

"Are you just straight bare underneath that dress?" She asks, once again in my ear. "Guess I shouldn't tease you too much," I feel her fingers grip my waist and the roughness of a callus on her palm against my skin, "wouldn't want an issue of drippage, would we?"

Cocky bitch.

"This is Taliah," Derek says, capturing our attention once again. "Taliah, this is my soon-retired partner Yongsun and her girlfriend Byulyi."

The dark-skinned girl's smile is a bit gapped, her coiled hair pulled back away from her square face, and red lipstick on her full mouth. She's definitely out of Derek's league, as is every single woman in existence.

"How progressive!" Her voice comes out in a sweet trill, that's about half a step from being obnoxious. "How did you two meet?"

Dammit. I didn't even think to come up with a logical story before coming here and I've never really been the one to be able to make up lies on the spot. Derek's eyes bore into mine because he knows that and a knowing smile begins to form on his lips.

I turn to Byulyi for help who is looking the woman up and down with a furrowed brow and a harsh scowl that just as quickly smooths over into a suggestive smile. "A nightclub." Seriously? "I was in the VIP section having a celebratory dinner with my workers and I went to go buy some more drinks only to see this beautiful woman being bothered by this drunk guy at the bar."

Taliah's mouth forms an 'o', "What did you do?"

Byulyi's smile grows into a darker, more familiar version of what I'm used to. "I beat the shit out of him."

"Bullshit." Derek snaps.

"Hey, I'll beat the shit outta you too. You being a cop don't mean shit."

"Hey!" I say loudly and clap my hands. "We need to go inside so we don't miss our reservation."

Derek and Byulyi stare each other down as if they don't hear me. Taliah taps her boyfriend's shoulder expectantly and gestures towards the restaurant. "C'mon babe."

With a visible clench of his jaw, he turns away from us and lets Taliah lead him inside.

"What the fuck was that?" I hiss at her, stepping out of her arm. "Don't pick fights with a fucking police officer."

"You shouldn't be worried about him." She mutters, taking out her phone and rapidly texting out a message. "How long has he been dating that woman?"

I scoff in disbelief. "Does it even -"

"Just tell me."

"I dunno. At least six months." I put my hands on my hips. "Now are you going to tell me who-" She begins to walk towards the restaurant's entrance. "Hello?"

"She's an international distributor of certain products we sell. A year ago she just disappeared. No communication with Wheein. Nothing. It set us back millions. We had to make new connections that took too much time." She shakes her head, the frustration evident in her voice. "And now she's here again and still hasn't contacted us."

I can see the gears churning in her head as she looks at her phone again and begins to type. "You think she's working with Lin's Clan and using Derek for information?"

"That's the easiest answer." She mutters under her breath as we enter the restaurant. "But I don't want to believe that. From what Wheein said, she had no interest in people like Lin's. Could be blackmail maybe..." Her voice grows quieter until she's just mouthing words inaudibly.

Derek and Taliah hover near the hostess' counter waiting for us, but I shoo them on. "We'll meet you. Need to use the restroom."

Her hand grips my shoulder as I lead us to the restroom, her head bent into her phone. "How could we not have seen her if she's been here this long? We have eyes on every..."

I lock the door of the family restroom behind us. "How does she not recognize you?"

"I don't deal with people like her. The fewer the people that know my face the better." She glances up from the phone for a second, studying the room we're in, before returning her gaze to the device. "A secure location. Smart of you."

"They probably think I took you in here to make out or something."

There's a ghost of a smile on her lips but, shockingly enough, she doesn't comment. I begin to pace the small interior of the room, listening to the click-clacking from her Blueberry-looking phone.

"I wonder if Derek's in on whatever this is?" I ask after a couple minutes. "I mean it already seems as if the whole police force is corrupt."

"Could be. We figure Lin's Clan has help in high places. Higher places than us it seems." Her lips pucker in an annoyed pout and I almost laugh. It's the most human expression I've seen on her face thus far. It's almost cute. She glances up at me. "What?"

"What kind of name is 'Byulyi'?"

She snorts. "A real name?"

"I mean, is it your name? Your actual name."

"What's in a name? It means nothing."

"You sure hide it like it means something."

She laughs, a quick and unexpected burst of it, and pockets her phone. "So quick-witted. But yeah. It's real. Now you have a name to a face. How's it feel?"

I shrug, honestly not feeling much about. "Satisfying maybe? I dunno, it's just a name."

"See? It means nothing." Her face lights up mischievously as she steps closer. "It's a sleight of hand trick. Everyone's worried about my name which means shit, but it keeps them off balance. They don't look in other places because they figure this is important, but my name's a dead end. Nothing but this," she gestures to herself, "is attached to it."

I suppose that's smart. I fell for it too, that human curiosity of wanting to know a name, figuring there's something behind it. And yet it's just a decoy.

"So I can call you Byulyi now?"

"Only in the presence of the inner circle." She walks closer to me, her smile fading. "I'm trusting you, Yongsun. You won't disappoint me, right?"

A mere foot separates us now and she looks down her sharp nose at me. I find my gaze focused on her slightly-parted mouth, probably still horny from earlier. I don't know. But I beginning wondering how they'd feel against my own, against my skin.

She chuckles, retreating back, to my surprising dismay. "I think we need to get you to our table. You look like you want to eat me."

I clear my throat, feeling a sensation of heat rushing through my body. "Yeah. The table." Derek. I need Derek's face to turn me off immediately.

I observe the sensation of her hand sliding around my waist a bit too well as we leave the restroom. Today really was not the day to have neglected underwear.


	10. Byulyi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was slightly rushed because I wanted to get it out on a Friday, but I still didn't so fuck me but whatever.

The look on Yongsun's face when she saw me was absolutely priceless. Her crescent tattoo had been painstakingly concealed on her chest which was not surprising and not my main point of focus in the slightest. I finally had an excuse to touch her, something I'd been yearning to do for so long that it was almost hard to control myself.

Until Taliah shows up.

Something definitely isn't right. No one should be able to fly below Wheein's radar for more than a day, let alone the possible months that she's been here. It annoys me. Worse, it makes me feel as if I'm losing control of my own damn city.

She sits across from me, unsuspecting of the deep shit she's about to be in if her answer for being back in this town isn't satisfactory. And right now, no version of an excuse feels satisfactory to me.

I'm very aware that I'm staring at her and doubly aware that she's noticing the intensity of my look.

"Are you from here?" I abruptly ask her, probably interrupting dickface in the middle of a topic about something no one cares about.

"Nope." She takes a sip of water, scratches her nose. "I move around a lot."

"Mm." I swallow down my anger. "How long have you been here for?"

Taliah shrugs, avoiding my gaze. "A few months."

To my right, I can feel Yongsun's eyes boring into the side of my face, her knee nudging mine in what I would guess is warning. I ignore her.

"That is  _really_  interesting Taliah."

Derek throws an arm around her shoulders, "If you're done playing twenty question with my girlfriend..."

"I'm not. So shut the fuck up."

"Your girlfriend's a real sweetheart, Yongsun." He snaps, shooting me a glare.

"Can we please just enjoy our meal?" Taliah mutters softly into her menu, ignoring me completely.

Yongsun nods in agreement, "Please. Be nice, Byulyi."

I slide my attention over to her silently warning face as she brushes her fingers across the back of my hand that I just now realize I have curled into a fist. I loosen my body a bit and pick up the menu in an attempt of casualness.

"Get anything you want Yong. I'm paying."

She points to what is obviously the most expensive steak on the menu, "Even this?"

"Sure, get twenty of them while you're at it." I retort, unfazed as I look through my own menu.

"What kind of job do you work?"

Taliah dark eyes show that question is loaded, as if she's now catching on to who I might be. I hold her stare, giving her a tiny predatory smile.

"I'm in charge of industrial distribution." I watch her throat bob. "And you?"

"I used to be into something similar."

"Funny." I drop my menu, steepling my fingers. "You said 'used to be'. Did you, perhaps, find something better than your previous job?"

She shifts in her seat, face tightening. "You understand that better opportunities come up. But I'd never give up trade secrets."

I laugh at that, if only to prevent myself from becoming angrier than I already am and leaping across the table to end her now. Because I could just end her now. Black fuzzes at the edges of my vision even as I feel myself laughing from some distance place. If Lin's Clan could have somehow turned into a greater personal vendetta then it just succeeded. And the murder of Taliah has reached top priority.

Yongsun's hand slaps my knee repeatedly from beneath the table. "Waitress is here, Byulyi."

"Medium-rare ribeye. Loaded potato." I tell her. "Give me whatever wine pairs best with it. And triple-check that it's medium-rare."

The waitress pauses in her notebook, "The wine?"

"The fucking steak."

"Byulyi!" Yongsun reprimands. "Apologize!"

"No. It was a stupid fucking question."

Derek stands up with his chest puffed out, scraping his chair against the marble floor and drawing the attention of nearby patrons. "If you don't chill out, I'll have to take you into custody."

"I knew you were going to assert your male  _dominance_  at some point." I say drily, getting up as well. "And as much as I'd love to tear your fragile ego down piece by piece I have better things to do. Cancel the order blondie, we're leaving."

Yongsun scoffs, looking around at the scene we've made. A few other waiters have come closer, sensing an altercation, and a couple of older male customers were half-standing but glaring at Derek. They probably thought he began the whole thing.

Taliah doesn't look up the entire time, staring down with her jaw clenched. The onlookers probably think she's embarrassed but I can tell her mind is far away from the situation here. She better be saying her damn prayers.

"Let's go, Yong." I tap her shoulder impatiently, keeping my eyes on Derek.

She finally stands, face made of stone as she shakes off my hand and addresses Taliah and the waitress. "I'm really sorry about this." She glares daggers at me. "This was really unacceptable."

Yongsun storms off towards the exit without waiting for me and I exhale. Fishing out my wallet I toss a one hundred dollar bill on the table and follow Yongsun.

As soon as we get outside she spins around on me. "What the hell is your problem?" I blink slowly at her commanding tone, before typing out a text to Wheein. "Are you going to say something?"

I keep my voice level. "I don't answer to you."

"You embarrassed me in front of my coworker, his girlfriend, and half of the town of Newport!" Yongsun's voice begins to get louder when she sees I'm not paying attention. "It's like you don't even care!"

"I don't."

She nearly growls in frustration, running a hand through her hand. "Fine, I'm too hungry for this. I'm going home."

"Nope." My Lincoln pulls up around the corner and I grip Yongsun's wrist. "We're going on a trip." 

The tinted passenger window slides down and Hyejin's grinning face appears. "Get in losers, we're going shopping."

"By 'shopping' she actually means murder," Wheein monotonously retorts from the driver's seat.

I grin, feeling some of my negativity wash off me just from being close to these idiots. "C'mon Yongsun, we have a long night ahead of us."

Hyejin dangles a bag of food outside of the window as Yongsun appears hesitant, "We have tacos."

With a deep sigh, she grabs the tacos from Hyejin and crawls into the backseat, recklessly scuffling against the leather interior. I come in after, knocking into her shoulder in the process. Something about the smooth R&B softly playing in the background tells me that Wheein assumed control of the radio.

Wheein speeds around the corner to the parking lot as soon as I slam the door behind me. "So Taliah Johnson is back in town," she says quietly. Wheein's not one to say obvious information out loud unless she's angry or frustrated, so despite the cool way she says it I know she's just as annoyed as I am.

"Basically confirmed she's working for Lin too." I say tightly, restraining myself from punching something. "She was one of the few people-"

"I know."

Wheein parks into a space a few cars down from the only Ford pickup in the lot and assumedly Derek's vehicle. I snatch the taco bag from Yongsun, noticing she's close to having almost devoured two already.

"Slow down. You're not getting a bathroom break."

She just glowers at me while continuing to inhale taco into her fluffy cheeks. It's almost adorable how much she obviously despises me just as much as she's attracted to me. The restroom was proof enough.

Part of me wishes I'd taken advantage of the moment, another part argues that I did right towards Krystal in not kissing her, a final part tells that second part to shut up because I don't care either way. Relationships are just time passers, being unloyal is part of the fun of it. And there will be other times Yongsun will slip on the wrong said of that blurry line between lust and hate.

"So," Hyejin says from the front, "how was your date?"

"Amazing!"

"The worse date I've ever been on."

I smirk at her. "I'm guessing you have like two dates in this sample pool?"

"Don't be cute."

"You weren't saying that in the bathroom twenty minutes ago, sweetheart."

Yongsun's eyes widen and she splutters, taken offguard. Hyejin twists around in surprise. "Already?!"

"Yeah," Wheein mutters, narrowed eyes visible in the rearview mirror, "already?"

"No!" Yongsun exclaims. "Nothing happened!"

Her denials honestly make her sound a thousand times more guilty than I ever could manage with a lie.

"But Krystal," Hyejin says cautiously.

"Nothing happened." I lean back into the seat, closing my eyes. "If something had happened she would've been walking out of that restaurant with a limp."

I'm not sure who the responding "oh my god" comes from.

"You know," Hyejin speaks up again, "you flirt with every single woman you meet, except for me."

I open an eye, catching a muscle in Wheein's jaw twitch at the question. I look at Hyejin with complete seriousness. "You want me to flirt you?"

"I'm not saying that," she says slowly. "I just want to know why. Am I ugly to you?"

I almost cackle at the extremely beautiful, dark-haired elf woman asking me if she's ugly. When, in any other circumstance, she could have been my Krystal replacement in a heartbeat.

"You're hot Hyejin, but I prefer older women." It's not a lie. I do. Not that that's stopped me from pursuing younger ones. "And you're a sister to me, like Wheein." Hyejin's face is unreadable.

"I see Taliah." Wheein interrupts, nodding towards the couple walking around the corner.

"Good." I nod to Yongsun who watches them silently through her window. "You're about to witness a well-executed tailing and a clean murder, beautiful. Take notes."


	11. Yongsun

This evening is not going as planned. Like it ever does. And yet, somehow, I did not expect to be involved in a murder tonight. I guess I'm a complete idiot for not considering that option when in the presence of a sadistic sociopath but I guess I was trying to be optimistic.

Taliah and Derek walk towards his truck together, appearing to be in an argument. She waves her hands animatedly as speaks and her head swivels in all directions as if watching for something. Or someone. Derek trudges next to her, head bent almost into his chest, mouth in a thin line. I've yet to see this submissive side of him. He can hardly go five minutes without talking.

Wheein's dark brows furrow as we watch them, an unreadable expression on her face. "What're they saying Hyejin?"

She brushes hair from her eyes, leaning forward onto the dashboard. "Hard to tell with the angle and the lighting. I got the some keywords: 'home' and 'safe'. I dunno."

"What're you doing?" I ask.

"She can read lips the best out of us," Byul answers shortly. She reaches underneath the seat. "Now shut up and change into these."

Something smacks into my face before dropping down into my lap in a clump. I examine a thin velvet tracksuit from what looks like the early 00's, the worse fucking clothing era in modern history. Byulyi watches me with her usual predatory intensity from the other side of the car.

"Stop looking at me," I snap, pulling my dress straps off my shoulder.

"Now why would I do that?"

"Because you can be a respectable human being for five seconds?"

One side of her mouth pulls up into a wry grin. "Sure doesn't sound like me."

I turn my back to her sliding the fabric down to my waist, ignoring the pleased hum behind me, and pull the sweatshirt over me.

"Not to be rude," I glance up, catching Hyejin's eye in her overhead mirror, "but you kinda have some big tits for your body Yongsun."

"We talking apples or oranges?" Byulyi asks, hardly holding back her laughter.

The car's engine turns over smoothly as Wheein presses a start button where the keyhole should be. "You two act like adolescent boys."

I block them all out as they distract themselves with their bickering. I put on the bottoms whose material rub all too strangely against my bare crotch before taking my dress off completely. At least there's Wheein in this inner circle, allegedly the most cutthroat of them all, but at the very least not a pervert. The date probably would've gone a lot better if she'd just came instead of Byulyi.

A beam of light crosses my face as Derek's vehicle speeds out of the parking lot. Wheein waits until their tail lights nearly disappear before slowly pulling out of our parking space, cruising along with the headlights turned off in that early darkness that comes with fall.

I lean back in my seat and click on my seatbelt. "Do you think he's dropping her off at her house?" I ask no one in general.

"I think your nipples look really perky in that sweatshirt." Byulyi comments, snorting at the look I shoot her.

"What's the plan when we do get ahold of her?"

"If she truly betrayed us for Lin's Clan, she'll die a very painful death." Wheein says quietly. I can't tell if I'm imagining the tightness in her voice. "She was trusted."

Byulyi turns serious as she regards the back Wheein's head. "Whatever her reason is, it has nothing to do with you." Wheein burns a hole through the windshield as if she doesn't hear her.

There's something more to this story, and it feels uncomfortably personal. Even Hyejin looks between them as if she has no more idea about this than I do.

"Were you and her-"

"If you say another word you will regret it Hyejin." Wheein says, eyes darker than I've ever seen them.

Hyejin immediately finds somewhere else to look and the silence in the car settles in heavily with only the low purr of the engine to alleviate it. Wheein stays stoically focused on the distinct of tail lights of Derek's truck on the quiet streets of Newport.

Byulyi shrugs off her blazer, revealing toned arms as she sports only her dark waistcoat. I find myself watching her from the corner of my eye despite myself. Her slender fingers comb through her dark hair and she pulls her it back into a low ponytail, using her teeth to yank the hairband up her forearm.

It's frustrating how physically attractive she is because of how much of an equally obnoxious prick she is. And yet, the two characteristics almost seem to cancel each other out into neutrality. That's the scary part.

"Hyejin, hand me my friend in the glovebox." Byulyi says, extending her hand towards the woman in the passenger seat.

Hyejin opens it, shuffling what sounds like papers around before pulling out both a small, heavy pistol and a silencer attachment. She places it in Byulyi's hand who examines it. I do the same.

"You're a fan of the Glock series?" I ask, watching as she slips the gun into the back of her trousers and the silencer in her pocket.

"I use what works for the occasion." She says. "At least you know your weapons. One less thing I have to teach you."

"I was a police officer."

"Yeah. You were."

I cross my arms, "Something crawl up your ass and die all of a sudden?"

"Oh it's nothing sudden," Byulyi's voice is bitter as tilts her head back against the seat, eyes looking up to the car's roof. "Life's been giving me bullshit for awhile now. Including you."

"Me?! What have I done?"

"You're a whiny bitch." She states matter-of-factly. "If you're going to be a bitch, at least be a useful one like Wheein." Our driver turns for a second to glare at her. "Love you Wheein!"

I gape at her incredulously. "You people  _tricked_  me into becoming a gang member!"

"For the last time, stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself. If bad things happen to good people then you sure as hell better expect some fucked up shit to happen to you."

She's glaring at me now, eyes shining bright in the darkness of the car. Heat warms the inside of my throat as I look away.

It's not like I believe some saint, but the way Byulyi puts me down to their level as if I've already murdered dozens of people in cold blood is completely unfair. I didn't deserve this shit and I'm sure if this woman wasn't trying to form some fucked up harem then I wouldn't have been dragged into this in the first place.

"Pretty nice neighborhood for someone who should be dead." Hyejin comments and I notice we've transitioned into a suburban area of Newport.

The place where the upper-middle class families lounge around in their two-story houses with their mix of Porsches and mom vans, satisfied in their own position in life. Ignoring people below them, hating those above them. Calling the police for the most basic of issues. In short, love the neighborhood, visited it way too often.

"She's staying with someone here. Or killed someone for their house." Wheein says. "Only way she'd get one with me knowing it." The twinge of annoyance in her voice comes up again.

"We should think this through then." Byulyi leans forward as we parallel park a few houses down from the one with the empty driveway Derek's truck is pulling into. "This house could potentially be filled with members of Lin's Clan."

" _If_  she's working with Lin's Clan." I add. Wheein glances at me curiously through the rearview mirror.

Byulyi scoffs, "Were you paying attention during dinner? She practically admitted to it."

"If she were as loyal as you said-"

"Shit's cutthroat out here, Yongsun. Loyalty doesn't mean anything to some people. 'Specially money-whores."

I catch Wheein's eye in the mirror again, her expression the least threatening I've ever seen it. She looks away.

"He's finally leaving."

The truck reverses out of the driveway going in the opposite direction of us. Taliah stands in the driveway for a long moment until no sign of Derek's truck remains then she turns in our precise direction. I can't see her face from this distance but I'm sure it's our car she's looking at.

"She seems to be aware of our presence." I nod my head at her figure.

"Of course she did. She wasn't who we were hiding from." Byulyi says. "Pull up in the driveway Wheein."

We pull up the road and into the driveway next to Taliah. Her face is made of stone as Byulyi gets out of the car with a mocking smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Taliah!" Her voice is as light as someone who hasn't seen a friend in awhile. "Anyone at home, baby?"

The answer is cut off by Byulyi slamming the door behind her. I lean between the front seats trying to make out what's happening, but her back faces us and Taliah's face is blocked from view.

Wheein turns off the engine, jaw tight, eyes hardened. She looks past Byulyi towards the hidden woman with a nine-mile stare.

"You alright Wheein?" Hyejin's brow furrows in concern after a minute. She reaches a hand out to the one Wheein has glued to the steering wheel, patting it. "Hey-"

"Fuck off Hyejin." She snaps, flinging her hand away. "Fuck this."

Wheein opens the car door suddenly, causing both Byulyi and Taliah to flinch in surprise when she steps out. The latter's mouth drops into a surprised 'o' at her appearance.

She takes a hesitant step forward. "Wheein?"

Wheein storms up to her, fury engulfing her expression as she looks up into Taliah's face for approximately ten whole seconds. She draws back her fist -

"Wheein wai-"

-and punches her squarely in the face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story's schedule has changed from Fridays to 'sometime during a weekend'.


	12. Byulyi

I've never seen Wheein lose her cool more than I have in this exact movement. Her tiny brown fist soars through the air and smashes hard into Taliah's jaw with the speed and force of a missile. Wheein is like my sister, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a little wet.

To her credit, Taliah doesn't fall down but stumbles back a few steps holding her jaw. She spits out a lob of bloody mucus.

"O-okay..." she mumbles wincing in pain, " ... I'm sorry - ow, fuck." Taliah massages her jaw.

Wheein seethes where she stands, one of her knuckles split open and her eyes dark with anger. They stare each other down as if it's just the two of them and if it weren't for the blood dribbling down Taliah's chin she'd look none the worse for wear.

I glance into the car, barely making out Hyejin's wide-eyed expression as she watches through the front windshield. I suddenly feel as if I've lost control of this situation.

"Can we just - can we not do this in the driveway?" She spits out blood onto the concrete and gestures to the house. "I swear no one's inside."

"Trust doesn't seem to be your strongsuit." Wheein says coldly. She looks at her hand as if she just noticing the injury. "And your face bruised my hand."

Taliah lifts a dark eyebrow, amused. "That does seem to be the case." She looks at me, "Please allow me to explain."

She'd always been a valuable asset to the Crescent Clan, except for the past year when she wasn't. Wheein had told me Taliah was intelligent, collected, and loyal to a fault - though now I'm seeing Wheein most likely held a bit of a bias. Even so, if she were all these things she'd be smart enough to have a good reason to betray us. Maybe not good enough to save her life.

"What do you think Wheein?" I ask.

She clenches her jaw briefly then she looks away from Taliah. "Hyejin and I will search the house."

Wheein gestures to Hyejin in the passenger's seat and walks towards the house, snatching the keys from Taliah's outstretched hand. Hyejin follows her and gives Taliah a perplexed once-over as she passes.

"Looks as if the Angel of Death has granted you a second chance." I cross my arms, looking her over. "How'd you get the house?"

She shrugs. "Owner's on vacation."

I hate the relaxed way she holds herself, the confidence emitting from her even in a circumstance like this. I want to throw her off-balance.

"You and Wheein used to fuck."

Taliah scoffs. "What a crude way to say we were in a relationship."

"Exactly how old are you again?"

She hesitates for a moment before answering, "Thirty-one."

Nearly a decade older than her then. Color me unsurprised. "Glad you've found someone more suitable for your age." Her lips twitch and I step closer to her. "Did I say something funny?"

"Derek is cute," she shrugs, "but more protection than anything else. If Wheein wants me back then-"

"You must have a lot of faith in your survival Johnson." I fiddle with the pistol in my waistband, watching her neutral expression. "Even if your story checks out I might have to kill you for being so annoying."

Taliah draws her lip between her teeth, eyes scanning me from my face to the hand behind my back. "You must be the elusive boss woman. Hmph." She looks me in the eye, "You look less of a creepy middle-aged man than I thought."

"And you're really good at deflecting."

She smirks, rocking back and forth, clasping and unclasping her hands. "Guilty as charged. It's how I survive. Better the woman with the gun be off-balanced than angry, yeah?"

So that's her technique then. The swaying to and fro with the unbalanced switches in conversation. I do find my anger slipping away, replaced with an attempt to just keep my head straight. The unbothered conversational lilt to her voice isn't helping either.

"Why did you disappear last fall?" I sigh in frustration, "And fucking stay still!"

Taliah freezes mid-rock and straightens. "I'd like to have this conversation with Wheein present."

"And here I am." Wheein stands in the threshold of the house still looking pissed off. Taliah's expression turns guarded as she observes her. "House is clear. Let's talk."

As Taliah goes to Wheein, I wave into the windshield of the Lincoln, trying to motion for Yongsun to get out. The woman's being awfully silent in there, especially by her standards.

The car door opens slowly and she pokes her head out, looking around like an owl in the nighttime.

"C'mon Nipples, we don't have all year."

Yongsun crosses her arms over her chest as she gets out, hip-checking the door shut. "Don't tell me you want me to witness a murder now."

"That all depends on her. Not me." I smirk as I look her over. "You might want to fix that cameltoe by the way."

"You know what, By- boss?" She shrieks, suddenly agitated. "I'm so sick of your shit! With the 'Nipples' and the 'cameltoes'!" She reaches down and yanks the fabric out. "I didn't expect to be making a detour after the dinner."

I press my lips together, attempting to hold back the laughter that burbles up inside of me as Yongsun stares me down. I swallow it, coughing. "You done?"

"I despise you."

"Cute. Now get inside."

Yongsun sulked inside Taliah's place and I follow with a glance around the quiet neighborhood. According to logistics, Beaumont Lane - with its beautiful homes and 'perfect families' - is a place with a load of cocaine and marijuana buyers - the former for the parents, the latter their children. I can just imagine rich businessmen and housewives raking powder into lines with their Platinum credit cards and snorting it off their babies' heads.

But who am I to judge? I don't take the drugs; I'm the guiding hand to those who sell the drugs to those who take them. People like Hyejin who do the necessary dirty work.

The inside of what might be Taliah's house is nothing out of the ordinary of what I'd expect from a place like this. The first step inside is onto a lush, velvet carpet and ornate golden picture frames filled with landscapes and portraits of people obviously not related to Taliah line the hallway.

"I hate rich people homes." Yongsun mutters underneath her breath, eyes wandering over ever surface.

"I live in a rich people home."

"And I hate you also."

"That's fair."

Wheein waits with her arms crossed and spine pencil-straight in the doorway of a room down the hall. The fiery anger once on her face is replaced by cold fury, marked only by the compression of a dimple in her cheek caused by the curl of her lips.

I sidle up to her and look around the room. Taliah rests her back nonchalantly against the centermost couch with an expectant raise of her eyebrow as Yongsun steps up beside us.

"Is there a hot members only policy in your clan, boss-woman?" Taliah casually asks, nodding her head at Yongsun. "Because damn, I'm really missing your harem right now."

I lean over to whisper into Wheein's ear, "Once we get information out of her, you can kill her."

I'd expected at least an understanding nod of the head from that, but Wheein just steps away from me. "Explain yourself, Johnson."

Taliah sits forward, becoming serious. "August 22nd, I was contacted by a member of Lin's Clan." I dig my fingers into my palm. Of course. "They had my daughter."

I cast a side glance at Wheein who only gives her a long blink. She had to have known, there's no way she couldn't have but - she would've told me. We don't do surprises. She would've have told me.

"She was hidden in an Icelandic village with her father, constantly moved around so I wouldn't even know where she was." Taliah drums her fingers on her knees. "No one should have known. That is what scared me."

"Wheein?" I mutter under my breath. She gives me a miniscule shake of head. She didn't know.

Taliah twists her mouth. "I couldn't trust you guys to protect me. Their clan obviously knows more than yours."

A sharp dig at both me and Wheein who doesn't even seem to breathing. I want to duct tape Taliah's mouth shut. I want to silence her for good.

"So you're with Lin's Clan?" I ask quietly, trying to control my voice into nonchalance.

"No. They didn't need me." Irritation flashes on her face. "They killed my ex-husband and kidnapped my child just so I would stop helping you. They -" Her voice breaks and her hands curl to fists on her thighs. She exhales like someone's sitting on her chest. "I know you don't give a fuck."

_No. I really don't._

But before I can snap that, Wheein says, "Finish the story." I glance at her.

"They still have her as - assurance." Taliah stares at her hands. "That is why I came back to Newport. I need to find her."

"That's awful." Yongsun says, a furrow between her brows. "Maybe the police could -"

I bark out a harsh laugh, cutting her off. "Sorry Taliah, she's new. And hey look, that was one of the best sob stories I've heard in awhile so my withered shell of a heart thanks you. I feel like the Grinch on Christmas."

Taliah's eyes are red as she looks up at me. "You won't help me?"

"You lost my protection the moment you doubted my clan." I say without a hint of pity in my voice. I can't say I want to kill her anymore, but her words definitely disgusted me. She denounced my clan like we're secondrate trash. "Do what what you want with her Wheein. I'll be waiting in the car."

I quietly walk out of the room before my annoyance can betray me, clenching and unclenching my hands at my sides. Sometimes it's an effort to be a murder-driven robot, but it's what I have to be is for my benefit and everyone else's who depends on me. Maybe if the bitch had come to me in the first place-

_The child would've been dead. You know your clan's not powerful enough._

I idle at the end of the hallway, frustration coursing through me at the truth in my thoughts. I slam the flat of my hand into the wall, causing a few photo frames to shudder.

"Boss?" I look over my shoulder at Yongsun watching me cautiously at the other end of the hall. "You okay?"

I straighten my waistcoat and flashing her a smile. "I'm fine. I hit walls for fun."

"I'd believe it." She comes a little closer and I half-expect her to start nagging me about Taliah. "This house huh? This amount of landscape paintings is bordering on obsession."

I observe her ambling her way over with suspicion. "Why the small talk?"

"Aren't you supposed to not question small talk? Doesn't that just make it more awkward?"

"Okay," I cross my arms, "why are you following me? I know you prefer Wheein."

"I also prefer not witnessing a murder."

"There it is." I say drily. I open the front door. "You can sit in the back of the car and not talk to me."

"Gladly master."

"Save that for the bedroom."

I bite back a small smile at her answering "Fuck you."


	13. Yongsun

It’s been two days since “date night” and I begin to dread the following Monday morning. Now that I am completely and permanently resigned from being a police officer, I am now a full-time student in the Crescent Clan training academy. Police Academy all over again, but this time with more lessons on how to efficiently sell ecstasy.

I’ve been attempting to use the equipment in the exercise room more, knowing a few years of fairly uneventful police duty hasn’t been kind to my body. I’d gone soft. Got lazy. Standing front of the mirror, I mourn the remains of what used to be my abs, poking at my stomach.

“You’re gonna die tomorrow Yongsun.” I tell myself, pacing back to the pole in the center of the room. “After two years of abstinence. Self-inflicted of course.” I lean my spine against it, sliding down to the floor.

The past couple of days have been long. It isn’t that I’ve missed the Crescent Clan, but without my job as a law enforcer the only person I have to talk to is myself - and I hate doing that half of the time. Loneliness does some strange things to a person. It makes them think of the way a certain despicable person’s murderer hands felt trailing their spine or the way their husky voice said their name.

_Distance only makes the heart grow fonder_ , Byulyi had chirped as they dropped her back off at the restaurant to pick up her car. I had flipped her off, of course.

That’s the schtick. The dance we dance and the game we play. It’s starting to feel a little more dangerous with each passing day.

Some prideful, angry part of me doesn’t want Byulyi to win because I do feel a strong sense of hatred towards her for what’s she done to me. Some other part knows once she has me she’ll grow bored and toss me aside like a poor mistress. Another glaring part of me does not give a fuck.

I can shove whatever I’m feeling deep inside me for now but I know I’ll be in the clan until I die or until I become too worthless to do anything. I don’t even know what I’m doing in the inner circle of the Crescent Clan now.

Wheein is the second-in-command and the informant, Hyejin handles and assists the members on the streets, and Krystal does the dirty work I guess. I don’t even know what Byulyi does except for call the shots and stride around like she owns the town. She doesn’t.

Lin’s Clan is is the only clan appearing in the Newport news and the adjacent counties. Armed robbery this, murder in the first degree that. No one gets caught and if they do they’re dead. The police have no real leads as I far as I know; only desperate guesses and scapegoats. No headquarters location, no idea what town they originate from.

The Crescent Clan is a petty gang who keeps drugs on the streets with an unidentifiable leader. All quiet business. Doesn’t cause a stir. Maybe someone’ll end up missing or dead one day and the police immediately transfer that case to the cold case file. The Crescent Clan just doesn’t instill the same kind of immediate fear as Lin’s Clan. No one cares about them. All things I will never mention to Byulyi.

She takes a lot of shit from me but I can see the soft spot she holds for her clan. It’s the only thing I think she cares about other than Wheein. I feel as if I mess around with either of those topics she would not hesitate to kill me.

The good thing about their irrelevance is that the police are not going to waste precious resources for them. The only real worry is Lin’s Clan destroying the Crescent Clan either through violence or undermining them to into nonexistent.

My phone starts to vibrate through the thin material of my sweatpants and I dig it out, looking at the private number. My breath hitches in my throat at the possibility of who it could be and I can’t tell if it’s from excitement or fear.

I answer the call. “Hello?”

“Good evening, beautiful.” Blood rushes into my cheeks at the familiar voice grating into the phone with what sounds like exhaustion. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells me it’s two o’clock in the morning. Damn. My circadian rhythm is still stuck on my graveyard police shift.

“No. I’m wide awake.”

“Let me ask you a hypothetical question. Consider it part of your pre-training.”

“Okay?”

“Imagine that you are in charge of someone and you give them a choice. And they choose wrong.” Byulyi pauses from the other side of the line. “Would you trust them or fix the problem yourself?”

I have an inkling that she’s talking about Wheein which gives me hesitation. Why ask me for advice?

“How wrong is wrong?”

“Very.” She says flatly.

“And by ‘fix the problem’-?”

“You know exactly what I mean, Yongsun.”

I wipe sweat off of my palms, suddenly very anxious. Something about this makes me feel as if I’m holding Taliah’s life in my hands. Or maybe it actually is all hypotheticals and no one’s life is in danger from this.

“Honestly?” I exhale, hearing only silence from Byulyi’s side. “If the mistake outweighs my trust in them, I would fix the problem.”

She hums quietly from her end and I hear what sounds like a chair creaking in the background. “You know this is about Taliah.”

I try to swallow the lump in my throat. “I had a suspicion.”

“Well, you’re more heartless than I thought.” She huffs out a laugh. “Hey Taliah! She knew it was you!”

That creaking chair sound comes again and I hear my heart pounding in my ears. “No-”

“You know Yongsun, I was really torn up about this. It was really working on my conscious, which is concerning because I thought that was gone.” Byulyi sighs. “And it’s a bit sucky too because I gave Taliah a wild card. It was either ask you for mercy or flip a coin.”

“No!” I scramble up from the floor. “You didn’t tell me-”

“Honestly, she had a better chance with the coin.” The phone clicks off.

From someplace else I feel the phone slip free from my grip and hear its deafening clatter against the marble floor. There’s no way Byulyi was serious. No way she’d let me sign Taliah’s death warrant and force me to live with the guilt of a decision I didn’t even know the consequences of.

_Of course she would. These people are all psychotic_.

There’s a churning in my stomach that I’ve only gotten once - the evening I shot my first bullet into the chest of a young male. The image of his blood spraying flashes through my mind. His blood on my hands. His blood sharp like iron on my tongue.

Only this time, when I lean to look over the body, Taliah is in his place.

I wake up from a fitful sleep only to feel sick and even worse in the morning. It isn’t often I feel guilty but I can’t even work up an appetite before I leave to meet Byulyi at the warehouse.

_I didn’t kill her._

Trees transform to brick buildings and buildings transform to cargo bays and ships as I drive to the warehouse - or, more accurately, the parking lot half a mile from the warehouse I’d been instructed to park at.

_She said it was a hypothetical and that is what I thought it was_.

Some underlying part of me can admit I knew it was real and that I hadn’t cared. I only cared when I actual could hear the person I was effecting. If Taliah had just turned up dead on Monday morning I could’ve chalked it off to coincidence and forgot about it. But no, Byulyi had to make sure I knew what I’d done.

I rap my fist against the warehouse’s back entrance, feeling half-nauseous and a lot of pissed off. Some guy I’ve never met jerks open the door, looks me up and down and steps back wordlessly.

He disappears around a corner before I can even walk all the way inside. I shut the door behind me, jerking back as someone moves from behind it.

“Well howdy.” Byulyi smile is a slash of brightness in the dark corner.

“What the hell?!” I gasp, holding a hand to my chest. My surprise shifts to anger. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She frowns as she steps into the fluorescent light. “What? It’s funny.”

“I’m talking about last night.” I whisper angrily. The corner of her mouth twitches. “You are seriously fucked up!”

“Relax, the woman’s fine. I was just letting you sweat a little.” I stare dumbly at her. “I trust Wheein with everything, including my life.” Byulyi says calmly. “If she wants Taliah alive then we’ll see what becomes of it.”

“Wha- You are a monster.” I shake my head at the complete absurdity of it all even as some of my guilt washes off of my shoulders.”Why would you do that?”

“I’m pretty sure I prefaced that it was a hypothetical question.” She looks down her sharp nose at me. “You’re going to have to make some real hard choices Yongsun. It’ll help your conscious to stop caring now.”

“Sure.” I start patting my body down. “Let me just find my emotions switch.”

She smirks. “I can help you.”

“Tempting, but also fuck you.”

“Yeah, your mouth says ‘fuck you’ but your eyes say ‘fuck me’.” Byulyi gaze flickers with her words. I open my mouth to deny the obvious truth but she presses a slender finger against my lips. “Shh, you talk too much.”

I’m about one degrading comment away from biting her finger in half today.

“Well, well.” A grating voice drones as a familiar, psychotic figure steps around the corner of a giant shelf in the warehouse. “Am I missing something?”

There are many things about Krystal that set me on edge but those dead, shark eyes frighten me the most. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, I stare into absolute oblivion.

Byulyi’s finger slides off my mouth, catching on my bottom lip. I stop breathing. Krystal watches our every move and I become very aware of how close Byulyi stands in front of me.

“Krystal. You finished your work in Clayton County?” Byulyi doesn’t make a move backwards, her expression completely blank.

“I did.”

“Then why are you bothering me?”

Krystal’s lifeless eyes shift over to me for a few moments that pass like minutes. An almost smile graces her lips. “I was just coming to complain about the hair you left in the shower this morning. Again.”

I flinch back a tiny step and her tiny smirk grows like a knife slash across her face. Byulyi looks between the two of us like she’s placed a bet on a dog fight and she’s certain she’s going to win. It sends my blood boiling. It makes me wonder which dog she’s betting on.

“Better my pubes in the drain than in your mouth.” Byulyi states.

I choke. They both observe me as I break out into a coughing fit. Neither bothering to help or ask if I’m okay as I grab onto the shelf behind me for support.

“Anyway,” Byulyi says over my coughs, “Hyejin is in the basement. As you know, Xavier’s been keeping correspondence with Jiang for King.”

“Right. Coldstone Brewery, tomorrow night.” Krystal nods.

“Go down there and refresh yourself on the details. Nothing can go wrong tomorrow.”

“Never boss.” Krystal strides past us, knocking into my side without a blink.

I clench my teeth from both the pain of her bony elbow jabbing into my ribcage and the sheer nerve of her. Byulyi’s eyes follow her until she disappears around a corner.

“What a woman.”

“That’s a woman?” I mutter underneath my breath. Byulyi snorts. “So, I assume the information on Michael King was helpful.”

“Yes. Very.” She begins to walk the opposite of Krystal and I assume she wants me to follow. “We have begun our excavation into Lin’s Clan to tear him and his clan into pieces.”

“The Crescent Clan is strong enough for this?”

I see her fingers twitch at her sides even as her face remains as unchanging as stone. “You doubt my clan, despite knowing nothing about it.”

“It was just a question.”

“Nothing’s ever ‘just a question’.” Byulyi casts a hard look in my direction. “Especially coming from you.”

“What-?”

“You should be  _very_  aware, Yongsun, that I have been extremely lenient with you these past couple of weeks.” Byul’s voice has grown deadly serious. “You say what you will to me in private, but if you ever say a thing like that in front of another one of my members, you will be put on trial for treason.”

She grows quiet as a man with a tablet passes by us. I try to swallow the lump in my throat. We go through more shelves and I see men and women talking in groups or logging numbers on crates.

Byulyi only speaks again once we reach the quieter office area. “I truly respect the input of my Inner Circle members and even though you’re an annoying bitch,” I frown at her, “I don’t particularly care about your little side comments. But you can understand that side comments in private can easily be treason in public can’t you?”

I wet my lips, avoiding her burning gaze. “I can.”

“Uh huh. You fucking better.” She pulls out a key as we halt in front of an office door. “Congrats. You’ve finished lesson one of your training. Easy right?” More like terrifying. I nod anyway. “It only gets worse.”

“Could you define ‘worse’?”

Byulyi rolls her shoulders, almost looking uncomfortable. “I will be giving you a debriefing on how to handle torture.” I shudder. “And then-”

“And then what?!” I back up a few steps, not even caring how my voice screeches against my throat.

“Yongsun, everyone has to do it.”

“No. No no. NO!” I throw out my hands as she takes a step towards me. My entire body feels like its been ducked in ice water.

“I haven’t even said what it is yet.” Byulyi hisses, glancing down the hallway.

“You’re going to torture me!”

“Well, that’s what the debriefing is for!”

“You expect me to just let you torture me willingly?” The hallway begins to feel very long and very empty as I look around for a way to escape or someone to save me.

“Hey, hey!” I can barely hear her over the sound of my own panicked breathing. “Calm down, you’re going to faint if you keep breathing like that.”

She steps forward and I take another step back. My back bumps against the wall behind me. “Please.”

“You are cracking under the mere mention of pressure and you expect me not to have you tortured?” Byulyi pinches the bridge of nose and backs up. “Relax Yongsun. You won’t be doing real fieldwork any time soon and by the time that happens you will be well prepared to handle torture. Today is just a debriefing.” She must notice the disbelief in my eyes because she sighs. “I swear it.”

I swallow, still feeling my heart thudding against my chest. I have no option either way. “You’re my boss. So I’m going to trust you.”

She smiles at that and I blink because it almost looks genuine. “Good. Keep this up and you might actual survive the training.”


	14. Byulyi

"To start, I can not feasibly teach you how to withstand torture."

Yongsin sits particularly stiff in a metal chair in front of me in the uncomfortably small closet of a room I picked out for our discussion. My chair is on the other side of the wall but I still have to sit with my legs open to make room for hers to be crossed between them. Completely unintentional. Not entirely unwelcome.

"Does the room really have to be this small?" I swear I can see a bead of sweat trickle down her temple. "I can't focus."

"Yeah, I don't think your issue is due to the room sweetheart."

She pokes out her lips in one of those little annoyed pouts she does when I'm right about something and we both know it. I don't think she even realizes she does it but it's one hell of a tell. I might have to inform her of that.

"Anyway," I continue, "can you tell me a method for torturing?"

"Being in this room with you."

"Okay Yongsun." I say quietly. "Bullshit me if you will, but this 'torture' will last until you cooperate."

She groans. "Waterboarding."

"Good job Yongsun!" I exclaim, making sure to channel all of my inner Kindergarten teacher into that compliment. She frowns. "But be warned. Typically, it's the mental torture not the physical torture that gets you." I tick them off on my fingers. "Isolation. Starvation. Sexual humiliation."

She whistles softly. "That's a list."

"Even if you get out alive, you will never be the same."

"Is that what happened to Krystal?"

There's a twinge of humor in her tone that I don't appreciate. "Is this a game?"

"No."

"Because five minutes ago you sure as hell weren't acting like this is a game."

Her jaw clenches. "I said no."

"Then act like it." I fold my arms. "Some people are just born fucked."

There's not much I actually know about Krystal's past. She was in the Crescent Clan before me and she's been the same psychotic version of herself since I met her ten years ago. Same beady eyes, same brutal personality. Most likely attracted to power since she didn't pay much attention to me until I began to planned to overthrow the old clan leader Hann.

She and Wheein had my back then and I rewarded them for it. Despite her impulsive and often cruel behavior she's at least loyal.

"There isn't much you can do against torture and we aren't the type of gang that expects you to commit suicide for our cause. We deal drugs, it's not that deep." Yongsun seems to relax a little. "Because of this we give members information about their current job and that's it. Inner Circle members are a little different.

"I require a lot of trust from you." She makes eye contact with me. "If one of you is abducted, you have to hold out until we get you back. And I promise we will get you back."

"And what happens if you can't?"

"That shouldn't even be a thought in your mind." I remind her. "But the sad truth is: if you do betray our secrets and somehow get out alive, I will have you killed. Same goes for any other Inner Circle member."

Yongsun shuffles in her metal chair, knocking her knee against mine and just as quickly flinches away. "And what happens if you get taken?"

"You've skipped ahead to The Backup Plan." I cross my arms. "If I am taken and there's no possible way I can reasonably escape, I will find a way to kill myself and Wheein will become your boss."

She looks disturbed. "Just like that?"

"I've made peace with death a long time ago. Life is just sex and money. And you can believe me when I say I've had enough of both to last a lifetime."

"Don't you believe in love?" Yongsun inquires, raising an eyebrow almost wryly. "You might find someone you want to live a long time with."

"That's the grossest thing you've ever said to me, Yongsun." She frowns. "Now, we're getting off topic again."

"We were talking about your suicide."

"Right. There are some things only Wheein and I know: like bank account information. If we somehow both die you're all fucked because I don't trust anyone else to handle this."

"Wait." Yongsun leans forward, her interested clearly piqued. "If you both die, that's the end of the Crescent Clan?"

"Don't get any ideas, darling. Krystal can smell guilt from a mile away. Death by Krystal is probably the worst way to go." She leans back into her chair. "Any other questions?"

Her eyebrows draw together. "That's my torture debriefing?"

"I told you that I can't train you to handle torture. What else do you want from me?"

I observe her as she thinks. Her dark eyes dart all over the closet of a room just to avoid my own. I frequently wonder what Wheein saw in her to suggest for her to be an Inner Circle member. Yongsun's a freethinker, unlike the other drones in the warehouse, and obviously not afraid to die considering her loose tongue, but I can't put my finger on what makes her special. I can't even figure out what kind of job I'm going to give her.

"Okay. I've got a question."

I nod my head in acknowledgement. "Shoot."

"Who do the members outside of the Inner Circle think you are?" I tilt my head. "I know you wouldn't trust the lesser members with your identity."

"Very astute." A smile stretches onto my lips. "They believe I am second-in-command to the 'real boss'. But what they don't know is that the 'real boss' did not relocate for his safety like they were told. The 'real boss' has been dead for eight years."

It was Wheein's idea. She happened to be an evil mastermind even at the tender age of fourteen. She knew that what we were doing was mutiny and there would be very few members of the Crescent Clan who would stand for it. So we made the old man paranoid.

Hann had a special place in his withered, old heart for Krystal that bordered on the line between parental and pedophilic. Either way, when she began whispering in his ear talk of his second-in-command betraying him he went off his rocker. All of his trustworthy men picked off one by one by his own devise, until there only remained Krystal and me, her so-called informant. Funny that she was the one who let me in to put a bullet through his brain.

I smile at the memory. It was the best day of my life.

"You killed your boss?" she asks and I gauge her neutral expression.

"Sure." I lean forward to prop my elbows onto my knees. "He was my first."

Yongsun looks down at me, the upward angle pronouncing the fullness of her cheeks. She appears so innocent through simple observation but there's something in her eye that's bizarre. Not a crazy glint like Krystal, but something similar to Wheein's intellectual, 'gives-no-fucks' look.

I knock my knee into hers, keeping eye contact with her as I do. I observe the way her throat bobs when I don't move away.

"Not in the sexual way of course." I give her a tiny smirk. "I only fuck women."

She doesn't look amused. "Is this part of the training?"

"Sure. There's Boss trivia at the end."

"You can't go five minutes without a fucking joke." She glances at my knee still pressed into hers. "Can you move?"

I scooch forward in my chair so my legs now encompass hers. A foot of spaces lies between us. "That better?"

"You must want Krystal to tear me apart, right?"

I frown. This annoyed nonchalance isn't quite the reaction I was hoping for. "What do you mean?"

"I saw your reaction when she came up to us earlier," she spits in my face. I lean back a bit. "You looked like you were betting on horses."

I release an inward sigh. Krystal cunt-blocking me once again. "You're not afraid of Krystal, are you?"

"I am not trying to be your one-night stand and I am not trying to die for five minutes of your attention."

"Hm," I tilt my head, "Five minutes is kind of pathetic."

"You can't even take this seriously."

"I didn't know this was such a serious matter." She flushes and I give her a serpentine grin. Got her. I stand and kick my chair to the side so I can open the closet door. "Let's go."

The coolness of the hallway is a breath of fresh air as we step outside and I take a look at my phone. A news alert about Lin's Clan sits in my notification box and I scan through the article. There are a few references about the police department having a clue of their clan's area of occupation which piques my interest.

I push down the brief excitement that bubbles up in my chest and crook my finger at Yongsun who has her arms crossed as she observes me. "Follow."

Wheein's in her private office in the back of the warehouse where I expect her to be. She opens the door before I can even knock with a spark of what almost appears to be elation in her eyes.

"Took you long enough." She steps back to let us through into the fairly large space clad with a neat desk and multiple armchairs.

"Sorry. I was busy."

Wheein gives Yongsun a knowing appraisal when she follows me into the room looking uncomfortable. "I'm unsurprised."

"Not anything weird!" Yongsun splutters. "Just training."

"You misinterpret the fucks I give." Wheein navigates her way back around her desk and I take a seat in the chair closest to her. "You saw the news article then."

I nod. "Find anything good?"

"Wilbur County."

That's a bit unexpected. It's a quiet, farming town north of Newport that doesn't see much traffic and one would believe the excess of traffic a gang would have would be noticable.

"It didn't make sense at first," Wheein continues as she focused now onto her laptop screen, "but milk."

Wheein's thoughts tend to just pop out of her mouth when she's onto something and one can only sit back and watch the process unfold. I prop an elbow on my chair, waiting for her to explain. Yongsun isn't nearly as patient.

"What do you mean 'milk'?" She asks.

The way Wheein glowers at her up over the top of her computer is enough to even strike a hint of fear into me. Disturbingly enough, Yongsun holds her gaze even as her own widens a bit. I look between the two of them

"Milk trucks." Wheein answers quietly. "Hay trucks. It doesn't matter. Wilbur is a known farm town."

I nod. "Right."

"But who's to say that it's not all a rouse. Selling drugs, weapons, et cetera-"

"Alongside the produce." I finish. I can feel a smile pulling at my lips. "Holy shit Wheein."

Wheein frowns as she taps on her keyboard. "But, how the hell did the police figure that out before me? Unless -"

"No Wheein." I walk over to her and try ruffling her hair which she skillfully evades. "Take this achievement, don't spoil it."

"The cops are fucking stupid Byul. Lin's Clan isn't."

I shrug. "So maybe it's a trap for the cops."

"Or us." Yongsun adds from the corner. Her and Wheen look at each other.

"Fucking buzzkills. Both of you. We're all going out for shots tonight." I command, slapping my hand on Wheein's desk. She frowns at me. "Boss's orders."

"Sounds like an absolute waste of time."

"And while you're at it, bring your thirty-year-old traitor bitch of an ex-girlfriend I let live." A muscle in her jaw twitches. "Just calling in the favor you own me."

"It's called trust. Not a favor."

"Whatever you want to call it." I give her a wink. I can't look away fast enough to miss the twinge of hurt in her eyes. "You know the place."

I grab Yongsun by the wrist as I walk past and pull her out of the office along with me. I trust Wheein enough to know that if she thought she'd made a mistake she would take it to me, no matter how embarrassing it was. But there's this tiny voice in my head that doubts her judgement in this case. I would like to believe her because she knows Taliah so well but that's also exactly the problem.

Wheein and Taliah are getting me on edge. Being around Yongsun all the time and barely touching her is driving me crazy enough to want to do something really stupid. Lin's Clan seems to permanently have the upperhand over me.

I want some fucking shots.

"I don't really drink." Yongsun says from beside me.

"I don't really care." I still hold her delicate wrist in my hand as we walk. Too delicate. I could snap it with two fingers. Instead, I brush my thumb against the sensitive skin, feeling her pulse flutter. I let go. "You can dance instead."

She draws her hands together in front of her. "I think Wheein's right."

"Of course she's right." I snap a bit too loud. My voice echoes in the empty hallways. "I haven't been a gang leader for eight years because I'm an idiot." I exhale. "But there's a lot on my mind right now and I want to celebrate something. Can I do that?"

We walk further down the hall in silence and I don't even know where we're going. I told Yongsun that training was all day and we supposed to be covering hand-to-hand combat but I want nothing more than to go to the lighthouse to sleep until I get blacked-out drunk.

"You want to talk about it?" Yongsun asks underneath her breath. I look at her in confusion. "About what's on your mind?"

I can hardly contain my surprise. She keeps her gaze forward. "You're joking."

She shakes her head. "I've had a lot of bad days and no one to talk to. It sucks."

"I don't need comfort. I need a distraction." I say, carefully watching her from my peripheral. "Maybe you could help."

Yongsun's expression flickers and caution finds its way onto her face. But I swear I could see, somewhere between neutrality and caution, the tiniest dilation of her pupil in what appeared to be arousal.

"What kind of distraction?" She asks cautiously.

"The good kind, of course."

There's a long pause. "We'll see."

"Oh?"

She doesn't say anymore once we exit out of the office side of the warehouse and start to traverse through the shelves and people in the operations portion of the building. I can't tell if her answer was just to shut me up or if she didn't understand the connotations of what I just said. If she truly meant it, then that left Krystal to deal with. I have no doubt that she would make Yongsun's life a living hell if she ever even suspected we'd done anything sexual.

_And it's not my problem_ , I chide myself.

But Yongsun's an Inner Circle member and Krystal is the only one I'd ever had a sexual relationship with. Getting involved with Yongsun would be a very bad idea and yet there's this crackling, electrical feeling between the two of us that's hard to ignore. It feels as if it builds in intensity every time I see her.

"Follow me back to the lighthouse." I instruct her as we come to the exit door. "Your day is just beginning."


	15. Yongsun

The lighthouse on the hill feels different with only the two of us here. Almost like a lonely cottage home and less of a safehouse for a gang of drug dealers.

Byulyi drops her keys onto the kitchen table along with the Hibachi she picked up from a restaurant and disappears down a hallway without a single word. Her entire aura changed on the car ride here from the confident dick she always is to just silent.

I stand in the center of the kitchen unsure what to do with myself. She'd gotten three containers of Hibachi but I'm unsure if any of them are meant for me to eat, but as my stomach growls at the smell of fried shrimp and rice I'm praying it is.

From some distance, I can hear the foaming waves crashing against the shore of the rocky cliff the lighthouse stands on. The lighthouse is so picturesque that one would never expect a gang to operate from it. Just like a farm out in Wilbur.

The Crescent Clan and the police are poking at a bear. I'm just hoping we don't get mauled by it.

"Okay," Byulyi comes back from down the hall in cutoff gym shorts and an oversized t-shirt with a stack of papers in her arm. "We talk and eat." She sits down at the head of the table and nods for me to sit adjacent to her. She begins picking apart the plastic with nimble fingers, dark eyes narrowed with her focus. "I fucking hate the knots they put in this."

I reach over, nudge her hands out of my way, and jab my thumb into the plastic, tearing it apart. "Which one is mine?"

She scoffs. "Well I could've done that you animal. You must be hungry. Ah!" She pushes out of her chair. I watch her stroll to the refrigerator with wearing patience. "Beer? Tea? Vodka?"

"Water, please." Byulyi pulls two beer bottles out of the refrigerator and sets them down on the table. "I said 'water'."

"These are for me. Get your own damn tap water."

She slides a box over to me and I immediately crack it open. Water can wait. I can see her stupid smirk from my peripheral as I use the chopsticks to stuff the food into my mouth.

"What do you know about Lin's Clan?"

"They're a pain in the ass." I say around the food in my mouth. "Meticulous. Greedy but not greedy enough to get caught."

"All unresolved robberies and murders are attributed to Lin's Clan according to the Newport County police reports you gave us."

I nod, glancing up at her. "Crescent Clan represents two-thirds of all drug transaction in our county. Lin's Clan is the other third as well as all armed and unarmed robberies, murders, and ransoms."

Byulyi's mouth rests in a thin line as she toys around with the lid of the styrofoam box. She drags a short nail down its surface, carving into it.

"Robberies and ransoms are dangerous games to play." She mutters half to herself. "One of the reasons I don't play."

"Well, Lin's Clan is good at it and more than willing. I'm pretty sure the only reason they haven't knocked your gang off is because they don't deem you as a threat."

Byulyi's finger stills on the lid. " _Our_  gang."

"Sure."

I figure it isn't going to continue to be a gang for much longer. Taliah is proof that Lin's Clan is trying to encroach upon Byulyi's drug territory which would quickly send her gang into irrelevancy.

Even worse, I'd assume Byulyi would want to keep that from happening but fighting Lin's Clan is a losing game. The way they've kept themselves secret for so long proves they probably have enough intel to rule this town. They probably already do.

"I'm just saying," I continue, "Lin is dreadful business. We should probably avoid them."

"'Oh ye of little faith'." Her chuckle is humorless and she continues to dig into her styrofoam. "I can't tell if your repetitive undermining of my gang is amusing or pissing me off."

"Sorry." I'm surprised to find I mean that. "I guess my cop persona hasn't quite rubbed off yet."

"If that's how the cops talk about my gang then..." A muscle in her jaw clenches. She exhales and closes her eyes for a moment. "Fuck." She pushes away her food and I watch her with guarded concern.

"Byulyi?"

"I will always believe that bullet needed to go through that old man's brain, but some days I really fucking wish I wasn't the one who did it."

It takes me a moment to recognize that she's talking about her old boss Hann that she killed. I observe her with the realization she's probably letting me see some vulnerable side of hers that I doubt many others have seen. Her dark gaze is glued to the table but I still feel as if she expects me to say something. So I do.

"Wishing doesn't do jack." Byulyi lifts her eyes to meet mine. "We do shit that leads to unknown consequences and deal with them. And from what I've seen so far, you are more than capable of dealing with them."

"Huh." A ghost of a smile creeps onto her lips. "Well said."

Her face switches so quickly from distraught to self-righteous that I physically lean back from feeling unbalanced. "Wh- was that a test?"

"Isn't life just one big test formed by our alien creators?"

"Okay."

Byul pops open the cap of her beer using the corner of the table and takes a long chug as if nothing happened. "I've sent spies into Wilbur County to check out some of the farms there and see if there's anything shifty. I don't expect there to be marijuana farms or anything but there has to be something we're missing."

"Would you guys know if Lin was importing or exporting through the harbor?"

"We personally control about thirty-eight percent of the harbor and know the contents of the other sixty percent," Byulyi says. "Some things do slip by Wheein and our intel team but it's a rarity. Too rare for any major operations."

"Maybe we need to expand our search."

"How do you mean?"

I twirl my chopsticks in my hand. "Well, there are two other smaller harbors on either side of Newport that are less than an hour away from here. Have you investigated Hope Port or Morgan Harbor?"

It isn't a long shot to think that Byulyi's clan may have overlooked the big picture in that Lin doesn't necessarily just have to be distributing through Newport. Even in the police department, investigations are often pinpointed into a particular occurrence but for events like serial killings a more general outlook must be taken in order to see the whole picture. Maybe Lin's Clan isn't too big, but our outlook is too small.

Byulyi drums her fingers on the table before getting her phone out of her pocket. She stands up. "Give me a minute."

I set my chopsticks down on the placemat as she leaves down the hallway, my hunger ebbing away in my excitement. It's a confusing feeling to be thrilled in helping out criminals, but figuring out solutions to issues always sends a shot of adrenaline through me.

Minutes tick by with only the occasional muffled murmur from the other room. I know enough that I can deduce she's talking to Wheein, but there's no variation in tone that will tell me how to this conversation is going. I hear the scruff of her tennis shoe against the carpet.

"I could positively kiss you right now."

I lift my eyebrows incredulously as Byul steps back into the room with a grin that nearly splits her face in two. "Really?"

"Wheein did some baseline research into the two ports you named. Morgan Harbor?"

"The one to the north."

"Right. So, with no major construction or economical changes, the dock has experienced a twenty-seven percent increase in cargo traffic over the past five years."

My lips part. "No economical changes my ass."

"No legal ones." Her hands fidgeting at her sides seem just as excited as she is. "This is big enough to check out. Right now."

"With me?"

"Reconnaissance training." Byulyi turns around and goes back the hallway she came from. "Let's get changed."

"Changed?" I push my chair from the table, stumbling over it in my rush to follow her. "Why?"

"Going out and looking suspicious raises a lot of questions." She says over her shoulder. "I prefer not having to kill everyone who suspects me so I try not to raise too many questions to start. Looking like you belong is key in that."

Byulyi opens the door at the end of the hallway and flicks on the light as she enters. The first thing I can see is the fading ornate wallpaper of blue flowers decorate the room's eggshell walls. The lush red carpet from outside continues on into this room with the cluttered desk in the corner and unmade four-poster bed only revealed when she closes the wooden door behind us.

"Before you comment on my bedroom's untidiness, I am a busy woman." She kicks a pair of panties that I figure are too pretty to be her own under her desk as she walks by.

"Very busy." I agree drily. There's only one woman that underwear could belong to and I don't like the way that bugs me. It reminds me of jealousy and jealousy ties into that crazy harem shit cult leaders cultivate. I chew my lip for a second before I can help blurting out, "You like forming harems Byulyi?"

She stills just outside the doors of a closet. I can't see her face but her head cocks to the side. "No." There's not an ounce of humor in her tone. I thought she'd at least make a joke about it or give me a resounding 'yes', but there's nothing. My cheeks burn as I realize the strangeness of my question. "Why?"

"Just asking."

Byulyi doesn't say anything, only yanks open the doors into a fairly large walk-in closet. Everything hangs neatly in color-coordinated areas of the room and sub sectioned into dresses, shirts, pants, and shoes. There are at least a hundred articles of clothing lining the walls. I give the closet a wide-eyed lookaround.

"Pick a nice dress." She begins grabbing articles of clothing as she speaks. "Something that says 'comfortable but not rich' and 'innocent but not stupid'."

I frown. "Uh. Okay?"

"You're attractive enough to catch unwanted attention-"

"Thanks-"

"-so instead of trying to play it down and adding more suspicion," she plows on, "you're going to play it to your advantage."

"And what about you? You're-" I chew on my jaw, "-attractive too."

"Sure, but more to women than men. It's pretty easy to discern I'm a lesbian." Byulyi looks me up and down but it feels like she's almost looking through me. "You look pretty damn straight to me."

"Well-"

"Get your dress and quit standing there like a dumbass." She slips past back into her bedroom without even a nudge.

I take a few tentative steps further into her closet and comb through the blue section without much thought. Byulyi's sudden hostility has put a damper on both my mood and the room's atmosphere and the only thing I can think that caused it was my harem question which makes no sense. It was half a joke anyways.

A knee-length blue dress with intricate patterns of white flowers catches my eye. It's modest enough and the thick wool material and three-quarters sleeves would provide some sort of protection from the coastal wind. And, like everything else in the closet, it has a lowkey expensive air about it, like a humble brag.

I bring the dress out of the closet and discover a half-naked Byulyi's back facing me. Her delicate shoulderblades draw in tight against the line of her spine when I come back in. I hesitate for a moment and her arms leave her sides in what I assume is her crossing her arms.

"Don't stare at me." She says slowly. "I don't like being watched while I'm nude."

I avert my eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry, I just-"

"Change in the closet."

"Can you stop cutting me off?" I snap at her backside. She doesn't flinch. "Look, I feel like I offended you with my harem question earlier so I'm sorry."

"I'm not offended."

"You sure? Because you seem a little-"

"I don't get offended. I get irritated." She grabs a sports bra from the bureau in front of her and slips it on before facing me. "I'm not an idiot, Miss Kim." I wince at her formal use of my last name. "And you really know how to work my nerves."

"It was just a question!"

She shakes her head, wearing a tiny humorless smile. "Nothing is ever just a question. So I will clear shit up before we have a problem. I'm in a relationship with Krystal Jung. Sure, I flirt with you because you're attractive but you're getting less so every moment I spend with you, honestly."

I draw back a reflexive step, shocked by the maliciousness lacing her voice so unexpectedly. She grabs an Oxford shirt off of its hanger and begins to put it on.

"And sure, I'd like to fuck you, but my willingness to do that also diminishes with each passing day in your presence, because the moral of the story is: you're Inner Circle, darling. Our relationship is me being your boss and you doing what I say. So you're kinda like a 'look but don't fuck'."

"What am I? A piece of meat?"

"Therefore," Byulyi continues as if I hadn't spoken, "though I care for you as your boss, in any other regard you are nothing special to me and I will remind you of that constantly." She finishes buttoning up her shirt, giving me a knowing look. "Sometimes, as your  _boss_ , it is my job to make you hate me."

"Oh, you're doing a very good job." I hiss, blood boiling.

It's bad enough she can read me like a damn book, but to throw back what she learned in my face like a teacher scorning a child makes me want to punch her twice as hard as Wheein did Taliah.

Any kind of openness that might have once been in Byulyi's face is now replaced by an utterly void expression. Her lips press into a thin line, her dark eyes empty like oblivion.

"Now that that's clear, get dressed. We leave for Morgan Harbor in ten."

My pride stinging, I twist on my heel and retreat back into the closet slamming the door shut behind me. Byulyi isn't worth my time or my anger. Anything I may have felt about her was a complete lapse in judgement. I will make sure it never happens again.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going for actual plot next chapter. We'll see how that goes.


	16. Byulyi

“Why exactly did I have to come with you guys? It’s hella awkward in here.”

Taliah sits beside me in the passenger seat of my Lincoln with her shoes kicked off and her legs folded underneath her. For the past forty odd minutes after I picked her up, she’d been nodding along to some trashy punk rock station.

I decided to bring her along due to her expertise in the industrial distribution line of work, and also because being alone in a car with my pouting trainee is not how I wanted to spend my day. So she serves as both the expert and the buffer.

“You’re earning my trust back. Remember?”

She hums and glances over her shoulder back at Yongsun. “And what’s wrong with the pretty one?”

She’s too annoying, too attractive. I want to fuck her too much.

“I don’t know. Ask her.” Yongsun’s glare catches mine in the rearview mirror for half a second before she looks away. “Maybe she’s being a little bitch.”

“Maybe you’re being a giant dick.” She hisses from the backseat.

“Oh.” Taliah gaze flickers between Yongsun and me. She begins to grin. “I see.”

I don’t usually find myself unnerved by many people, but Taliah is proving to be the exception. She’s sharp and, from what I’ve heard of her, completely ruthless to those who get her way. I’d have reason to believe she could be a sociopath if not for her obvious concern for her daughter’s well-being.

A half-Wheein, half-Krystal hybrid with all her ill-intentions disguised by that gapped smile and her soft, pretty features that portray innocence and kindness. A load of bullshit. The way Wheein chooses her girlfriends is an absolute enigma.

“And what exactly do you see?” I allow some of my irritation into my voice.

Taliah casts a knowing smile at me before pointing out of the window. “Morgan Harbor!”

The old feeder port looks even more ancient than the one hundred years it’s been in operation. Clusters of precariously crafted wooden shacks cluster along its docks like peas in a pod, shuddering against the briny wind. A couple of rickety cranes stand erect on either side of the port and a few warehouses dot the scenery further down the shore but there’s not even a quarter as many as Newport. If Lin is operating here, he must have a reliable transportation system in and out of the few warehouses he can use.

As if the universe heard my thoughts, we pass a plot of land with close to thirty semi-trucks parked not two hundred yards from the warehouses. I turn into Old Joe’s Seafood restaurant’s parking lot on the opposite side of the street.

“Hm.” Taliah taps a finger to her chin in thought.

I turn to her expectantly. “Yeah?”

“I wonder just how old Old Joe is.”

I stare at her for a long moment. “Are you a fucking lunatic?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Her eyes harden as she hones in her focus. “We need to find someone who works here, preferably someone who works for the port operating company. Get our moody backseater to charm some info out of a creepy middle-aged man or something.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Yongsun demands indignantly from the back.

“Though I do possess a certain level of attractiveness,” I fight not to roll my eyes, “I do not sell out my dignity to woo men for information. Sounds like the trainee’s job.”

Yong scoffs and I snort. “First thing you’ve said today that I agree with. So, let’s split up.” I nod to her. “Taliah, you and Yongsun ask around the harbor and try to glean information that way. I’m going to have a little look around the warehouses.”

Yongsun crosses her arms. “What happened to me learning recon?”

“That’s what you’re doing.” I say harshly. “You stop wearing your pull-ups once you’ve been potty-trained.”

She leans back against the backseat, looking no less like a displeased child who just got scolded. Plans change and with Taliah here, I can bestow the responsibility of watching Yongsun to her. I can’t have her slowing me down or distracting me during an actual recon mission that she’s not prepared for.

“Don’t die out there, boss.” Taliah slides a small, sleek pistol from her waistband and thumbs off the safety before returning it. “I’d think your girlfriend might suspect I did it and try to kill me for it.”

“Krystal would positively kill you for it.” I say, letting my hand graze over my own gun tucked into my trousers. “Don’t doubt her capabilities.”

“Don’t doubt mine either.”

So damn cocky. And what makes it worse is that she has a track record to back it up. Getting illegal substances to and from where they need to go for over a decade without a major slipup is impressive. It takes a great deal of self-control not to take on too much when business is going well and an even greater deal of intuition to understand who you can trust to transport such materials.

That’s one of the reasonings Wheein told me when giving her case on why we should spare Taliah. She’s a valuable asset for anyone and to give her up when we’re already in a position of weakness would be foolish. Apparently, Taliah’s already in the process of reopening contact with a few of her old connections as long as the Crescent Clan assures her of their discretion in regards to Lin’s Clan. Harder said than done.

And now I have her down at the docks where the people who have her daughter might allegedly lie. Of course, I didn’t tell her that. We don’t know for sure anyway. Instead, we’re merely investigating a minor drug operation we think might be happening down here.

“You know, I don’t give a fuck.” Yongsun says finally. I watch her smooth down the flowing skirt of the blue dress she borrowed from my closet. It’s actually Wheein’s, but it fits her well like it’s her own. I clench my jaw and look away before she can notice. “I can play cute and innocent if I have to.”

Taliah seems amused. “Is there also a hot and naughty option as well?”

To my surprise, Yongsun responds, “Depends on how drunk I am.” I glance over my shoulder at her face tugged into an unfamiliar smug expression. It’s so awkward, it’s almost cute.

“Yeah, okay.” Taliah mutters obviously unimpressed.

“You two can dilly dally on your walk over,” I say and unlock the car doors. “Let’s meet back here in two hours.”

“And if you’re not back by then?”

“Call Wheein. That is, if she hasn’t blocked your number yet.”

She only gives me a friendly smile. “For your sake, I hope not.”

I ignore that as I look between her and Yongsun. “The sun shines bright today.”

“Tonight the moon shines brighter.” Taliah responds before she slips on a pair of dark shades and steps outside of the car.

Yongsun remains seated, perched on the edge of the seat like she’s ready to leave but waiting like she expects for me to say something. She appears displeased to say the least - but she’s looked that way for the past couple of hours anyway.

“What.”

She crosses her arms. “Did you really have to be that cruel?”

“What exactly are we talking about here?”

“You know what happened in your bedroom,” she snaps. “You were a complete asshole.”

I huff a laugh. “And you’re telling me this now because…?”

“The others may stand for you being an absolute dick, but I think you were out of line. So I’m telling you that privately.”

I don’t know what to say. I stare at her stern face incredulously for a long moment before saying, “Get the hell out of my car Yongsun.” It doesn’t have as much bite as I want it to, but she obeys anyway.

Through the windshield, I watch her and Taliah jaywalk across the two-lane road towards what looks like a tourist center. The woman has some balls on her. Not even Krystal talks to me like that and she’s a psychopath.

_A problem for another time_ , I tell myself and scan the harbor that stretches in front of me. Figuring out what exactly are in the crates in those warehouses would be ideal. So it’s a matter of considering where the inventory reports are likely to be kept which - considering the meticulous secrecy of Lin’s Clan thus far - is going to be impossible. I’d do better looking for a needle in a haystack.

Locking the car door behind me, I cross the quiet street towards the lot of semi-trucks just adjacent to me. The mechanical whirring sounds of cranes lifting cargo and the harsh yells of workers on the docks are carried over on the wind that tastes of salt.

As soon as I step onto the gravelled plot of land with the trucks, I modify my purposeful gait into a relaxed ambling one and look around in open curiosity merely a foolish woman wandering in the wrong place. There’s no question I’m being watched. The penetrating feeling burrows into the back of my head, but I don’t turn around to look over my shoulder. I keep walking, oblivious and curious.

It’s a risk, just like everything else. I don’t know how they operate here. I could end up with a bullet in my back just for looking suspicious.

I cock my head upwards as if I’m enjoying the breeze against my skin, and peer beneath my eyelashes into the bed of a cracked open truck. Empty of course. Nothing is ever easy with Lin.

The rest of the trucks in the row I walk down are quiet and shut tight. There’s nothing that indicates anything of interest would be lying inside them so it’s not worth wasting time to pick any of the locks. Forty-five minutes has already passed by with nothing to show for it.

The edge of the gravelled property ends in a waist-height railing that guards from the waves of the sea that foam and churn maybe ten feet below. I walk along its length towards the warehouses, trailing my fingertips against the chipped metal barrier. A few blurry, ant-sized shapes work on the port gesturing and yelling at figures sitting in cranes or riding forklifts, tying and untying crates onto hooks. Morgan is definitely a smaller operation than in Newport and it surely attracts less attention and is easier to keep track of for a smaller drug operation. The only thing left is to prove it.

“Ma’am.” I halt mid-step at the gruff voice directed at my back and turn as steadily as I can to face him. “What’re you doin’ out here?”

The first thing I notice is that he’s tall - lingering over me by nearly foot - and he doesn’t appear to be armed, but he managed to creep up behind me so that’s concerning enough. He’s a heavily bearded man with the wildness of it contrasted by long copper hair pulled neatly away from his face into a loose bun, dressed in faded jeans and a black t-shirt. A truck driver?

I clasp my hands behind my back and feel the comforting weight of my pistol against my spine. “Well, sir, I am quite lost.” I put on my best impression of an innocent woman.

His steel eyes narrow with distrust. “And how’d you get this far out, miss?”

I add a bit of a fearful wobble to my lower lip. “My b-brother works out h-here and he doesn’t have a phone and I-I don’t live here. I n-needed to tell him about our m-mother who’s in the hospital.”

The man’s expression of suspicion shifts into one of being uncomfortable and he looks me up and down. I can hardly keep the sneer from my face. This is so fucking humilating. “Your brother Jared Park?”

I hesitate only briefly. “No. Kurt Tyler.” He looks me over again. “Half-brother.” I amend.

He makes some sort of gruff man grunting noise and crosses his arms, which I now realize are covered in complex black tattoos. “How bout I take you down to the dock and we see about that brother, hm?”

I give him a wide, relieved smile. “Thank you so much!”  _Bitch_.

This is exactly what I wanted. A problem might arise when he realizes there is no Kurt Tyler related to me at the docks, but that’s a problem for later on in time.

The man starts walking towards the cargo bay and I trail behind him. “Name’s Ham.”

I raise an amused eyebrow. “Is that because your hair is the color of a baked ham’s skin?”

“No. Short for Hamlet.” He says seriously and I choke back my laughter. This poor man’s childhood had to have been awful, because his parents obviously hated him. “Whatcha brother do down here, Miss...?”

“Amelia.” I shrug even though he can’t see. “I don’t know. We don’t talk much.”

Ham gives me a curious glance over his shoulder and I smile at him sheepishly. The guy doesn’t think I’m a threat, otherwise he’d have me walking next to him where he could see me. Either the guy lacks good judgement or he has no reason to suspect that I’m suspicious because there’s nothing here to hide. I’m really hoping it’s not the latter.

We cross a metal bridge meant to hold only one-way traffic from the gravel lot to the concrete jungle of enormous metal crates stacked twenty feet tall and cargo ships resting in its harbor. Mostly men pass by us, throwing perplexed or leering stares our way only to have Ham wave them off. He must have some type of leadership position around here.

“Soo, Ham. What’s a strong man like you do you do here?” The flirtation comes out of my lips awkwardly and it tastes bitter on my tongue.

He scratches the bristles of his beard and I can see a silver band glint on his ring finger.  _Fuck_. “I’m one of the port operators, ma’am. Keep things in tiptop shape here.”

A large man in a power position with manners straight from the backwoods of Louisiana. Shockingly enough, this man fits Hyejin’s ideal guy criteria to a tee.

“Sounds like hard work.”

“No kiddin’. And these new guys comin’ in like they own the p-” Ham cuts himself off. “Never mind.”

“New guys?” I pry with muted interested.

“Yeah, buncha Asian-” he stops again as he seems to realize he’s talking to an Asian. “I mean, no offense. They’re a bit different - eh… darker?”

“Chinese men?” Lin is generally a Chinese surname, but that doesn’t really mean anything. The name might not even be attached into any particular person.

“I don’t know lady. I can’t tell the difference.”

I purse my lips in annoyance. “So, what kind of cargo is even stored here?”

“Various kinds.” He says bluntly. The conversational tone he once had is gone and he stops in front of a small shack of a building close to the center of the port. He fiddles with a ring of keys, “I’m gonna look up your brother in the system and see if we can find him.”

_Informations Processing_ , I read on the outside of the door before he pushes it open. I follow him inside of the dimly lit room; that’s all the shack is: a large room with a couple of computers and a wall of filing cabinets. An empty water cooler sits dejectedly to the side and a withered cactus perches in one of the windowsills. It all looks pretty pathetic.

As Ham seats himself into a rolling chair in front of one of the computers, I stroll around the room eyes peeled for any significant paper or file I could stick up my shirt or snap a photo of. He glances up at me from the computer and I make a show of frowning at the dead cactus.

“Needs some TLC and some water.” I mutter with my back facing him.

“Cacti don’t need water.” He gripes and I cast my eyes to the ceiling in frustration.

There’s nothing incriminating lying around in here, despite the room’s drabby appearance they’re careful about their files. I glance at my watch and grimace. I need to get back in twenty minutes.

“I’m not seeing your brother’s name, Miss.” The man calls over from his computer and I wander back over to him.

I make a show of worrying my lip and wringing my hands. “Oh dear. He has to be here. He said he works at Hope Port.”

Ham freezes and then scowls heavily at me. “This is Morgan Harbor.”

I drop my mouth into an ‘o’ and bring a dainty hand over my mouth. “No! That can’t be. The nice man at the gas station said-”

He looks halfway between wanting to kill me and wanting to kill himself. “Fuckin’ hell lady! Can’t you read English?”

I give him a tiny smirk. “ _No puedo leer inglés._ ”

“Ah, fuck you!” He thrusts a large finger at me. “ Get outta here! I better not see you around ever again or there will be consequences. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“ _Vete a la mierda_.” I waggle my fingers at his glowering mug as I back out of the room. “ _Puta_.”

Before he finds an English-Spanish translator on his Windows Vista computer, I leave feeling no closer to answers then when I started, but happy about those Spanish classes I took with Wheein a few years ago. If Ham is correct about all these new Asian workers, there might be something more to this port that’s definitely worth investigating further.

I hope Yongsun and Taliah have fared better than me. 


	17. Yongsun

Taliah leans her elbows on a couple of maps and smiles a little at the quickly reddening young man working the tourist desk. “Hey there.” 

He couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old, but he looked more along the lines of sixteen with his shaved, JROTC-style haircut and his green polo that fits snugly over his chubby frame.  The boy looks nervously between me and Taliah, his young hormones probably overwhelmed.

“Hi. Welcome to P-port Morgan Harbour. My name is Jack and I can assist you with -uh- anything you may need.” He stammers out.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Taliah croons. 

“The cutest.” I smile a bit, trying to play along with what almost feels like pedophilia. 

The tourist center is a quaint brick building that, when I saw it, I could only identify as squashed-looking. The front doors open up into a large space with three different sections branching off my means of doorway and staircase: a tourist desk, a coffee shop, and a small branch of a public library on the second floor. It’s quiet here. 

A couple of businessmen sip their mid-afternoon coffees with the lovely sounds of men yelling and machinery whirring to accompany their drinks. Another man with a glare in his glasses sits with his long legs crossed on the floor in one corner, typing furiously on his lap. I spare him a second glance, surprised by both his attractiveness and him being the only dark-skinned male I’ve seen here so far. 

“How bout you tell me something about this place that no one’s ever heard before?” Taliah asks with a bright Chesire grin that pulls up her cheeks.

There’s something about Taliah that reminds me so much and so little of Byulyi. Maybe it’s the sheer confidence of her that’s wrapped up in a pleasant little bow instead of a cocky, insufferable one.

The kid named Jack glances around a bit, cheeks jostling with the movement, before he leans over the counter towards us and whispers underneath his breath, “My Uncle Tom smuggles cocaine through the harbor.” 

Taliah and I exchange a suspicious glance at each other. It would be strange for this boy to be involved in Lin’s Clan and be so open with information. We could be meddling with some other operation entirely.

Jack leans back with a hearty laugh. “You shoulda seen your faces! It’s just a story, ma’am.”

“I like to believe all the stories are true.” Taliah gives the kid a tiny smile laced with venom that, by the nervous scrunching of his face, gets him rethinking his boner.  

He shuffles around the papers he screwed up with his chest as his face flushes a dark red. “I - I don’t even have an Uncle Tom.” 

“As much as we’d love to meet said Uncle Tom and, perhaps, inquire about his cabin, I think the cocaine bit is what caught our attention.” 

I observe the man in the corner glancing up from his laptop for half a second before burrowing his nose into the screen again. This area isn’t secure. 

Jack squints between the two of us. “You guys cops?”

I’d done no undercover investigative work while a police officer - it required more training than I was willing to do. However, in a situation like this, that extra work might have been useful. Fortunately, it seems that Taliah is a natural liar.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. Secret for a secret, Jack.” She nudges her head towards me. “My client here is looking for a nice, quiet base of operations for some international trading.” 

There he goes again. I catch the man on the floor looking up at us again from the corner of my eye. His head cocks slightly, listening. If we are in the right place, it’s highly probable that any one of these people is a part of Lin’s Clan.

“What kinda products we talkin’ ladies?” The nervous boy from earlier is gone and replaced by one whose grey eyes gleam with greed and mischief. 

“Maybe we don’t discuss this in the open?” I interject smoothly, attempting to turn up my nose in a snooty manner. I lock eyes with Taliah and tilt my head towards the guy on the floor. 

Taliah glances over at him. Looks again, longer this time as her honey sweet smile sinks into a hard scowl. “Theo, what the fuck?” The man on the floor doesn’t budge, but his heavy eyebrows sink down into a deep furrow. “Hello?”

Jack scowls. “You know this guy?”

“Sure. He’s an excellent coke dealer.” She cocks her head. “Last time I seen him, it was in New York.”

The man named Theo shuts his laptop and places it carefully to the side of himself. He stands up, a tall and lanky guy dressed in a white-collared shirt and slacks held up by a pair of dark suspenders. He seems the opposite of how I’d imagine a coke dealer to look: well-shaven and clean. He looks a bit older than Taliah does.

“No offense Taliah, but I was hoping you were dead.” His deep voice is more gruff than his appearance and he scans her from head to toe wearing an unreadable expression on his face. “Looks like you’re still playing the game.”  

Her lips tighten. “It’s always been a game to you. I’m the one with the big vision. You’re the one who always thinks small!”

I eye Taliah, surprised by her burst of anger. Even Jack seems taken aback and he steps out from behind his little booth and in between the two of him.

“Sir? Who’s this bitch?”

_ Sir? _

Theo dusts imaginary dust from his shirt with an everlasting sigh. “Stay here Jack. Taliah. Let’s talk outside.” 

Her arms folded across her chest match the defiance in her glare as he turns his back on us and walks further into the building. After a couple of moments, Taliah follows him and I hesitate looking between her and Jack and Theo. Somehow she seems highly unconcerned that this could be a trap and he’s leading us to our deaths for poking around. Then again, they obviously know each other. It’s hard to tell if that’s a good thing.

“Oh? So you’re ‘sir’ now, Theo?” Taliah crosses her arms and glares up into his face the moment we walk out of the back door. “Hypocritical per usual.”

We stand on a wooden dock that looks over the sea on the opposite side of the building and out of view of the street. There’s a couple of trash cans back here and a lot of open air. Unless some goons are hiding a dumpster, we should be alone but I still don’t feel comfortable with Taliah being the only one of us with a gun.

“Taliah, who is this?” I ask, feeling uneasy. The man turns his blazing eyes onto me like he just realized I’m here.

“This is the company you keep nowadays?” His black eyes narrow. “Hmph. Guess she looks like less of a heroin addict than your husband.” 

“How flattering.” I lean against the brick wall away from them. He spares me a single withering glance.

“Also my  _ ex-husband  _ is dead.”

Theo scratches his beard. “And yet here you are. A cockroach.”

She smirks. “Small and brown?”

“You won’t die.” Taliah scoffs and he shakes his head. “You know you’re not supposed to be here.”

“How do you mean?”

“I work for Lin, Taliah. I know all about your little agreement.” He almost looks regretful and Taliah takes a couple steps back. “You know I’ll have to tell them.”

I guess we are in the right place. But at what cost? We find their harbor only to be surrounded by the enemy. I glance at the spot I know Taliah’s gun is and wonder how quick of a draw she is.

“And murder my daughter in the process?” She spits at him. “I knew you were limp-dicked Theo, but at least have some loyalty!”

“This  _ is  _ loyalty!” He snaps. “You had a chance for you and your daughter to live peacefully and you ruined it. For what?” He throws his hands at me. “Her? She your new girlfriend or something?”

“You’re an idiot if you think that I ruined something good.” She jabs a finger towards him. “Nothing’s free. They would’ve came to collect one day.”

Theo clasps his hands behind his back and I watch the movement with suspicion. I inch closer to her and whisper, “Watch his hands.” 

Taliah doesn’t answer immediately, but slips her hand underneath the back of her shirt and pulls out her pistol. She reaches into the inside of her coat jacket and takes out a silencer. I gape at her and Theo takes out a pistol on his own, silencer already attached.

“No secrets with you, huh?” His holds his gun at his side like a grocery bag. Taliah methodically screws on her silencer. 

“You can’t tell Lin about my daughter, Theo. You know I can’t let you.” She shakes out her shoulders. “And I know you wouldn’t have just let me walk away.”

“Better to be shot in the face than the back?” 

This is escalating horribly. At this rate someone’s going to get shot and yet I can’t think of anyway out of this situation that won’t end up with someone getting shot. Will it be possible to defuse this long enough for Byulyi to get here? 

_ Calm down. Examine the surroundings. _

I spot a red dumpster in front of me against the back of the tourist center and a small, tin trash can with a lid propped on its side. The lid’s large enough to use as a temporary shield or a projectile. A short, leaden pipe that looks like it could’ve belonged on a piece of machinery lies discarded about a meter to my right, but it’s hard to tell how heavy it’ll be. It could be hollow.

“Remember when we were younger and wanted to see who had the quickest draw?” Taliah asks quietly. 

Theo finally smiles and it transforms his handsome face into something monstrous. “Well that’s easy. I am.”

And then I hear it. The muffled crack of a pistol firing, the noise nearly eaten up by the sounds of crashing waves. I don’t know who shot it. I don’t care.

I leap hard to my right and grab the lead pipe. It’s too light and I overcompensate, crashing my side against the brick wall of the building. From somewhere distant, I hear a feminine yelp. 

I don’t look. I propel myself to my feet and run towards the tin lid on the ground. Another shot cracks out and hits the brick behind me. Too close to my face. 

I grab the tin lid’s handle with my free hand and throw it in his general area. Blood pounds in my ears and adrenaline rushes through my veins as I roll again, towards him. 

As I rise to my feet, I swing the pipe with every ounce of strength in my body feeling it connect against his face with a sickening crunch. 

His gun clatters to the cement a second before he crumples down himself. I kick his gun over the side of the pier into the rolling waves of the ocean. I stare at him unmoving on the ground for too long. I can’t tell if he’s breathing.

I run back over to Taliah who also lays on the ground unmoving. Blood seeps from her chest and I blanch, kneeling over her. “Taliah?” I shake her body but she doesn’t react. Her chest rises and falls slowly. “Shit!”

I struggle to grab my phone from the spandex shorts underneath my dress, shaking as I try to thumb through my recent calls for Byulyi’s number. 

“Come on Byulyi.” I whisper as it rings. “Please pick up.”

She’s losing blood quickly and the stain blossoms across her chest. I can feel my entire body trembling.

The phone clicks. “Well, well. Look who’s calling-”

“I need you -quickly, discreetly - to come behind the tourist center.” She doesn’t respond but I here gravel crunching in the background. I try to swallow. “Taliah has been shot and downed her ex-friend.”

“Wha-”

I trap the phone between my ear and shoulder as I apply pressure onto her chest wound. Blood trickles through my fingers. “She’s unconscious. She must’ve banged her head when she fell, but - but I’m sure the bullet missed her heart. And I- I-” I take a shuddering breath, “I’m applying pressure.”

“Are you okay?” There’s a slight edge to her voice I haven’t heard before. “Yongsun, have you been hurt?”

“No. Taliah. Just her.” I stare into her ashen face. “I’m - I’m applying pressure.” 

“Okay, you’re doing good.” Byulyi’s voice softens and can hear her breath quicken like she’s running. “Can you handle it while I call Wheein?” 

“No!” The initial calm I experienced is being to wear off and the warm blood feels repulsive to the touch. “Please. Stay on the phone with me.”

I brace the hard ‘no’, or a ‘pull yourself together, you used to be a cop’. I can’t handle that right now. That might send me into a full panic attack. 

“Okay. I’ll text her, just give me a second.”

“Can you - can you just keep talking?” Hot tears trickle down my cheeks into my mouth. They taste like blood. Her blood, his blood. I want to vomit. 

“Yeah. Of course I can. Let me just put it on -” Her voice grows distant, “-speaker. So I am texting Wheein who, don’t worry, is a medically-trained speed demon and already is only twenty minutes away because I’m always prepared for the worst. I am very smart and not just a pretty face.”

I almost weep with relief. “Yes.” I manage to choke out. “You’re so smart.”

“Yikes. A compliment. You’re not okay, are you?”

I manage a glance at Theo’s still body a few yards away - his chest had stopped moving a while ago. And Taliah soaked in blood beside me. Her breathing is slowing. I didn’t even remember to keep track of her breathing. 

“Don’t worry. I’m nearly there and I’ll take over. Alright? I’ve had to treat many a gun wound in my day and, honestly, not everyone survives.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Not helping.”

“I’m telling you the truth. But you’re doing everything in your power to keep her alive and that’s all you can do. If she lives she’ll owe you her life.”

“And if she dies?”

Byulyi exhales. “No one will blame you. People die and it’s not your fault.”

“I think I killed him!” I struggle to slow my rapid breathing before I pass out. “He’s dead!  _ I _ bashed his brains in.”

“He would’ve killed you, Yongsun.” She says with deadly calm. “And if he had hurt you, I would’ve done it. And he would’ve died from worse than a gunshot wound. You did him a favor.”

For a moment the sticky blood isn’t caked onto my hands and Taliah isn’t bleeding out beside me and I remember her harsh words from earlier today.

“I thought you didn’t care about me.”

“Well Yongsun, I lied.” Byulyi hisses.

“Why would you-”

“I’m in front of the tourist shop. Should I go in?”

“No! I think more of Lin’s Clan is in there.” I look around the small area that I’m in. “If you go around the side towards the ocean, you should run into-” 

“What a mess.”

My phone slips from my shoulder into a pool of Taliah’s blood as I turn to look at Byulyi. She scans Theo from head to toe with a deep scowl before squatting down beside him and drawing a tiny blade from her jacket sleeve. I cringe as she jabs it deep into his jugular and leaves it there. 

She comes over to us and kneels down in the blood next to me. She nudges my hands aside, taking off Taliah’s jacket and digs her fingernails into the bloodsoaked shirt, tearing it apart. I scramble back to give her room.

Byulyi lifts up Taliah’s shoulder and examines her backside. “Bullet’s lodged somewhere inside her, between the heart and collarbone if it didn’t take too serious of a detour.” She resumes putting pressure on the wound. “I’ve seen people survive worse, but we’ll let Wheein decide the diagnosis. If she’s unconscious, we might have to worry about a brain injury as well.” 

“Will she be okay?” I manage between shallow breaths. So much blood. I want to wipe the tears from my cheeks but then her blood will be on my face. I can taste it in my mouth. Black spots dance in front of my vision.

“Breathe Yongsun. Breathe.” Byulyi demands. “Wheein will be here in five- Yongsun?” 

I lean my head against the brick wall closest to me, feeling woozy. “Can I just close my eyes for a second? I - I just need a second.” 

I can’t see her anymore. Darkness clouds my sight and my breathing feels too loud in my ears. But I hear her mutter, “Okay. Take all the time you need.” 

I’m grateful she doesn’t sound spiteful or sarcastic. My body takes that as an invitation to shut my eyes and slip into unconsciousness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never really write action sequences, but I done did what needs to be done.


	18. Byulyi

Time is running out before some nosy son of a bitch pokes their nose out of the back door. We need to move quickly and carefully before this situation turns into an even bigger shitfest. And yet, Yongsun remains unconscious against the side of the building chest still heaving in and out like she’s wide awake and panicking. Her hair sticks to her sweaty face and she’s soaked in blood. Unfortunate for Wheein’s dress.

_She did the best she could_ , I remind myself. She has a thing with killing people. Understandable for someone not in her line of duty, but whatever. Everyone has their thing.

I examine Taliah underneath me, my knee pressed firmly onto her chest wound. The blood flow steadily slowing a sure sign of her incoming death.

I find I can’t bring myself to feel pity about losing her more than one feels pity over losing a valuable asset. Maybe that makes me a monster. Sure as hell think Yongsun’d call me one. She calls me a lot of things and ‘monster’ wouldn’t be the worst.

A pair of quick footsteps suddenly become audible over the crashing of the waves and I stiffen over Taliah’s body. I cautiously rest my hand on the gun in my waistband until I see Wheein and Xavier, briskly walk around the corner of the building. I relax, seeing the medical bag in her hand.

Wheein heads straight towards me, stepping over the dead man’s body like it’s nothing but a misplaced log. Xavier gives me and Yongsun a brief observational glance before crouching down near the dead man.

“You didn’t tell me Yongsun was injured.” She mutters and takes my place as I move over.

“She passed out from the blood.” Wheein frowns. “The sight of the blood.”

“Remind me to laugh about that later,” she begins to apply an occlusive dressing to Taliah’s seeping wound, “when we don’t have to move two unconscious bodies to the van.”

“I suppose we can each carry our respective girlfriends.”

Wheein does not seem amused by that. She seems to be the opposite of amused actually. The hardened set of the jaw, the flash of her dark eyes. Yes, highly unamused.

“Why did you bring her in the first place? She’s a liability.” It takes me a moment to realize she’s probably talking about Taliah.

_Because I wanted a buffer between me and Yongsun_  doesn’t seem like a good enough excuse in this situation. It was completely stupid for me to bring Taliah into a recon assignment like this and hindsight has pointed that out to me quite plainly.

“Being around Yongsun makes me stupider.” I answer simply.

“Your vagina makes you stupider you mean.”

I open and shut my mouth. She’s not wrong. “I’ll carry her to the van now,” I get up from my knees. “Got the situation handled?”

“Tell Hyejin to come here since Xavier’s handling the body.”

I glance over to where the dead man once lied and find both him and Xavier have vanished without a trace. Damn he works fast. I need to give that guy a raise.

Yongsun is still against the wall as unconscious as she was five minutes ago, unfortunately, which gives me the wonderful task of getting her limp body into the van. And, through some rare form of maneuvering that should one day be considered a style of martial arts, I wrestle her torso over my shoulder and slowly walk us to the van.

“If we got caught out here with a dead body and all this blood because I had to carry your heavy ass, Yongsun, I swear I will kill you.”

Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t respond to my death threat. There’s just the rhythmic pattern of each of her slow breaths against my shoulder as I turn the corner of the brick building.

Our dark van is parked just inside of the side alleyway looking more conspicuous than I’d like, but fuck it. Everything’s fucked anyway. Its back door swings open as soon as we turn the corner and Hyejin’s greets us with a tiny, humorless smile.

“I see recon went well.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” I grab her outstretched hand and pull me and my deadweight into the van’s cab, dropping her into one of the seats. “Everything is dandy.”

Hyejin folds her arms across her chest as she nods, deadpan. “Yeah, I can tell by the way your left eye is twitching uncontrollably.”

“Funny. Go out back and see if you can help Wheein with anything. We need to get going in ten tops.”

Maybe it’s the Crescent Clan curse. The older you get, the more you suck at your job until you eventually get betrayed by a loyal member because you’ve become a liability. I wonder if Wheein’d take me out if I became the new Hann. I wonder if I’d blame her for it.

Probably not. Selling drugs more of a 90s fad anyway. Sometimes I consider where I’d be if I had considered doing ‘honest’ work. Though your average big business CEOs and crime lords have a lot more in common than they’d admit.

In the end, it’s all money and assets. Lie to get more money. Kill to get more money. Spend money to get more money. It’s an addiction and an infatuation you never get rid of. But how else am I going to buy my Thom Browne suits?

Yongsun groans, shifting in the seat I tossed her in even though her eyes remain closed. Her back arches into the cushion and she smacks her lips a few times, but she doesn’t move anymore.

Something about her voice on the phone earlier had set me on edge, because there had been this brief moment when I was afraid she’d been hurt. And I know I was afraid because my heart raced and my hands got sweaty and I felt  _too_  damn happy when it was only Taliah and not her.

I felt relieved.

Right after I curse and yell at her so she keeps her distance from me this happens just to make me the biggest hypocrite. Why is karma such a bitch?

“Byulyi?”

I blink, realizing I’ve been staring out the back window for who knows how long, and look over at Yongsun who sits spine-straight in her seat. She’s staring down at herself, or maybe the blood that’s drenched into her dress. Right. I begin to search for our extra bag of clothes.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. How was your nap?”

“Is she alive?” She asks quietly.

Some awful part of me wonders if she’d be this concerned if I were dying or if she’d just say ‘good riddance’.

“Wheein is doing her best.”  _But it’s not looking great._  I omit that last part, because, for the first time this afternoon, she relaxes slightly. “I’m glad that you’re okay.”

Yongsun lips stretch into a thin line. “Whatever.”

“Seriously,” I find the duffel bag of clothes and toss it onto the bench. “I was concerned.”

“I’m not playing back and forth game where you hate me one minute and like me the other. It’s a game I left in middle school and I would prefer not to participate.”

“All I said was that I’m glad you’re fine.” I mutter, keeping a tight leash on my annoyance. “Didn’t realize my concern was a crime.”

She stands up from her seat and glares me. It takes me a minute to realize her eyes are wet. “I am covered with blood, Taliah is out there dying, and I just…” Her hands shake. “Could you not think about yourself for one damn moment?  _I don’t give a damn_ about your fucking concern for me.  _I’m_  fine.  _She’s_ dying.  _Theo’s dead_.” She chokes out a sob and falls back into her seat and I stare at her, frozen.

“Yongsun-”

“Maybe I had a reason, but they’re still dead because of me.”  _They?_

I cautiously step closer to her like I would a wounded animal. “Taliah’s not dead, Yongsun.”

“Not her.” She furiously wipes the tears from her eyes. “I hate killing people.”

“Well, you’re a better person than me.”

“Yeah? Cause that really fucking matters, right?”

I hesitate before sitting down on the bench beside her. I’m not an expert on emotions or comforting people and I don’t put myself into situations like this because I’m not good at it and I don’t care to be. Problems with Krystal are solved with sex. All Wheein wants me to do is say she’s being a little pussy a couple of times or just sit there with her in silence until she figures it out herself. Yongsun is neither my best friend or my girlfriend, so my options are running thin.

“Listen.” I place an arm around her shoulders and she tenses under my grip. She’s not crying anymore, but it looks like she could start up again any second. “You did a real good job today. And - uh - you know, you might’ve saved a life today. Save one, take one; the universe is balanced.” Yongsun seems unamused by that comment. “Either way, as selfish and awful as it sounds, I am glad you weren’t the one hurt. I can count on one hand the number of people I can say that about and one of those people would be myself.”

She glances me hesitantly, eyes pleading and scared, as the back door of the van flies open. We both jump: me onto my feet and Yongsun near horizontally trying to get away from me. Wheein’s gaze flickers between the two of us in undisguised disgust.

Yongsun, being the queen of subtlety, immediately exclaims, “It’s not what you think-”

“Don’t.” Wheein holds up a stern hand. “I don’t care.”

“How’s she holding up?” I ask.

“Well enough. She’s conscious now.” Yongsun perks up in her seat. “They should be coming soon. We’re taking her to our pocket doctor but I’m pretty sure she’ll be okay.”

I grin at Yongsun who appears cautiously reassured. “See? All is well.”

“I’m sure you three can find your way back to Newport in the Lincoln?”

“Three?”

“Hyejin will be riding with you.” Wheein glances over her shoulder at Xavier and Hyejin coming around the corner, Taliah leaning most of her weight onto the former. “There’s no need for her to accompany us and she still has the thing tomorrow. With Krystal.”

I can’t tell if she meant to say my girlfriend’s name in such a foreboding tone because of Yongsun and I’s positioning earlier or if the name ‘Krystal’ just comes out like a death threat once you’ve become acquainted with the woman. Wheein’s eyes bore into me in a ‘we’ll talk later’ kind of way and that unnerves me more than most of what’s happened today.

I nod slowly. “Okay. You two are capable enough for damage control.”

Her lips tighten and a single, angry dimple compresses her cheek. “Glad you think so. Now if you can take the clothes and  _her_  outside of the van, please. Time is ticking.”

Wheein is definitely mad at me. Maybe for endangering her forty-year-old not-girlfriend which is something else we need to talk about. Like how and why that happened in the first place. And now I’m slightly peeved because I wanted to ride back alone with Yongsun and I don’t even want to consider why I do.

“Keep playing with fire Byul.” Wheein hisses at me. I notice Yongsun has moved out of the van and is exchanging words with a grim-looking Taliah. “Just know that when Krystal finds out about whatever this is, you’re not the one that’s going to get burned.”

“I know that.”

“Then act like you do.” Her brow furrows. “I didn’t bring her into our gang for her to get killed in the first year.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “I think she proved she’s capable of surviving with what happened today.”

“That guy and Krystal are two very different people. Even if she can survive, we can’t afford Krystal dead with a bashed-in skull, now can we?” I don’t answer, hating the fact that Wheein is a living AI and always thinks things through better than myself. “If I need to train her instead of you, I can.”

“No.” I answer quickly. Too quickly, because if I thought my answer through a few seconds longer the rational part of my mind would’ve just said yes. Wheein’s eyes narrow briefly before she swipes my duffel bag from where I put it and wordlessly hands it to me. I give her a wink before I step out of the van’s back door onto the pavement. “Trust me.”

Yongsun now leans against the brick wall of the tourist center, out of the way of Xavier and Hyejin assisting Taliah into the back of the van who gives me a brief nod before she ducks inside. 

I suppose I can find some place inside of me that can be glad that she didn’t die. It’d give Yongsun peace of mind and perhaps give Taliah time to reinsert herself into our clan and maybe become head of distribution again - at least until Hyejin eventually makes her way up into that role.

“I need to burn these clothes,” Yongsun shucks the dress over her head and tosses it at her feet. I raise an eyebrow at her camisole and the two tiny peaks of her nipples.

“Do you not own bras or just choose not to wear them?”

She rolls her eyes and comes up to me, snatching the duffel from my hand. It’s an effort to retain eye contact. “If I don’t need a bra, I don’t wear a bra.”

Somehow that’s one of the most attractive things she’s ever said to me, but I force myself to just nod, look up to the gray skies, and pray to the all-knowing goddess Jung Wheein for the ability to keep it in my pants. Something I’ve never done until now.

Yongsun ruffles through the bag and pulls out an oversized black graphic tee. My t-shirt. Seemingly satisfied, she slips into it. No bra. No pants. Just my t-shirt.

This is a fucking test.

“This is really comfy.” She looks up at me. “Hurry up. What’re you wearing?”

I laugh - well, it’s more of an incredulous guffaw as I take the bag. Yongsun looks at me in concern. This is what I get for trying to keep her away from me so Krystal won’t kill her? I get teased for the rest of my life until I lose my mind?

No, not until I lose my mind. Just until that inevitable day when I crack and she cracks at the same time and have a nice, lustful lay without complications. And I’ll get bored and she’ll get over it and this whole sexual tension bit will be laid to rest. The sooner the better.

_You happy Wheein? I’m thinking of sex the way I’d think of getting teeth pulled. I am perfectly unattached. Nothing could possibly go wrong_.

I can see her disapproving grimace already as I pull an old sweatshirt over the shirt I already have on, but, at the end of the day, it’s her fault for choosing someone who looks so damn yummy.

Examining my pant leg, I decide the material is dark enough to hide the bloodstains. I toss the bag back into the van and Hyejin hops out at the same time, frowning as it narrowly misses her.

She combs her dark hair out of eyes, only to have the sea breeze blow it back into her face. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” I wipe a hand down my face as reality comes back into my mind. We just made a heaping mess, and now I have to figure out how to clean it up before someone notices - or rather does something about it. One of my pulsing headaches is already starting to set in as we head across the street to my car. “Time to talk damage control.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I'm like 'I should add more descriptors'. And then I'm like 'nah, that's boring and physically painful'. So I don't.


End file.
